Forever Indeed
by Hallows07
Summary: Elizabeth agrees to marry a man she barely knows and move half way across the world with him. Why? She's not sure. On top of the stress of abandoning her old life, meeting her fiancé's parents and planning a wedding, she finds herself captivated by a man that lives across the street. What's a woman to do? Will she be able to sort herself out before her fate is sealed? OMCxOFCxJerry
1. Chapter 1

**Forever Indeed**

Looking up from the champagne glass, she found him kneeling beside the table. He held out his hand, requesting for "The ring." She raised an eyebrow, looking back down and into the glass of bubbly. A platinum ring shined within. She looked to him again and he smiled widely, asking again, "Sweetheart, please pass me the ring." Pursing her lips, she tipped the glass up. The champagne drenched her leftover salad, the ring falling atop a sodden tomato slice. He picked it up, using a napkin to wipe it dry. "Lizzie-beth," he began, holding out the ring, "Will you marry me?"

Lizzie-beth gulped, trying to suffocate the hysterical giggle that threatened to burst from between her red lips. The lipstick smeared away, as her teeth scraped and bit at her bottom lip.

"Lizzie-beth…" he tried to say more, but his voice cracked slightly with anxiety.

She looked from the ring to him. Gazing into his bright eyes, enthralled, she coyly whispered, "Yes."

He jumped to his feet, exclaiming, "Yes!" Grinning, he spun round, calling to the others in the restaurant, "She said yes!"

They clapped. Waiters brought along more champagne. Lizze-beth drew in a large breath of air, hands shaking. "Lizzie-beth, you've made me the luckiest man." He eagerly expressed, seizing her hand. He stroked her fingers, attempting to remember which it was that the ring should sit upon.

She laughed sharply, pulling her hand away and informing, "Sam, it's the other hand."

Sam laughed too and corrected himself. They sat back. Staring at one another, the pair shared a content smile. As Sam ordered her favourite desert for her, Lizzie-beth headed to the bathroom and promptly fell into a comfy chair nearby the sinks. As she stared into the mirror, watching her smile fade, she could not help but wonder why she had said 'yes' to a man she had known only for a month.

"Why?" she asked her reflection. Lizzie-beth gnawed at her lips again, eyes turning to stare at the ring upon her finger, "Elizabeth you stupid git." She quietly hissed, "Why would you say yes to him?"

Standing, she hastily checked her make-up and returned to the table.

"I'm expected home after this year is done." Samuel told her. Elizabeth nodded, as she scooped some ice-cream onto her spoon. He confidently stared at her, continuing, "I want you to come with me."

Spoon clattering into the bowl, Elizabeth's eyes widened. "What?" she gasped, grabbing her napkin and strangling it.

"I'm graduating, as you know, and my father expects me home to work for him." She nodded, confirming they had indeed previously discussed that. He sighed, "I know you want to stay here and finish university yourself too, but my parents will want to meet you. I aren't likely to come back here and… well I was hoping we could move there anyway – and what better place to move to over there than close to my parents."

Elizabeth dropped the napkin, reaching over and grasping his hands, murmuring, "Sam I know you want to move there – I've known for a while. You never stop talking about home." She bit her lip, pulling away and grabbing her glass of champagne, "I'm just not sure it's what I want."

He clenched his fist, glancing away from her and out the window. She watched his brows furrow and jaw tighten. Closing his eyes, Sam sighed and turned back to her. He took up her newly ringed hand and stared at the oval shaped, three stone Tiffany ring. "When we first got together you explained that your family is not really… a proper family. You aren't particularly fussed about your friends, considering the way they all are. Plus there's always the internet. You said that you've never known anything even remotely similar to what real love should be like either until I came around." He began, "I know you adore England sweetheart, but I don't think you could ever truly be happy here. I think my home – my family will make you so." He raised his gaze from the ring and looked into her brown eyes, "I know I can make you happy, but I can't do that if we're split between countries." His light blue eyes pierced through the maroon and yellow of her own and Elizabeth's lips widened a little, "We've got the time to sort everything out. We'll fill and file all the forms together. You'll move to America with me. We'll stay at my parent's new house whilst we save up for our own nearby. Come on Elizabeth – you always said you'd love to go to Vegas."

She laughed, nodding, "Yeah, for a quick holiday – not for the rest of my life."

Stroking her hand, Sam laughed a little himself, "True, but its only until we have the money to get our own place."

"What about getting married?" Elizabeth queried, looking at the ring that shimmered beneath the restaurant lighting.

"We'll get married there, whilst we're at my parents. A house will take a while, but my father has agreed to pay for our special day." Sam raised her hand and kissed her palm, bringing her attention back to him, "We'll be together forever."

* * *

Huffing, Elizabeth angrily mumbled as her shoes popped back out. She raked her hands down the side of the suitcase, between the clothes, and dragged up a belt with a clip at the end. Blowing some straw hair from her vision, she knelt onto the clothes in the suitcase and heaved the belt over the contents of the case. Forcing the stuff down further, Elizabeth heavily sighed, "Oh, please fit!" She jumped onto the contents, shouting, "You have to fit!"

Flinching, Elizabeth left the large pink suitcase and ran from the room. She slid across the kitchen floor and grabbed the counter, steadying herself. Picking up her mobile phone, she answered.

"What is this on Facebook?" A voice blared. Pulling the phone away, grimacing, Elizabeth slowly strolled back to her room.

"What is what?" She asked, placing the phone onto the desk and picking her shoes up from the floor.

"That notice thing you've put up! Why didn't you text me?" The voice demanded.

Leaning over the phone and peeking at the caller ID, Elizabeth retorted, "I'm sorry Stacy, I didn't think it would interest you. After all, we've not spoken in such a long time – what with you and Mike moving in together, you and your _new_ best friend going to London for a lovely weekend of shopping and so on and so forth. I figured you were busy and I myself," she pushed the shoes down into the case, "I am busy now too."

"Elizabeth," Stacy groaned through the devices, "Don't be like that. You know Amy could never replace you. You shouldn't be surprised anyway since your university and mine are far from one another. I needed a housemate and Amy was perfect. It's just a happy coincidence that she's also turned out to be an awesome friend."

"Picking up the phone like you've just done, Stacy, isn't that difficult." Elizabeth complained, hissing as she trapped her fingers between her shoes and a bag of jewellery."

"Hey!" Stacy yelled, "You could have done that too! Seriously though, what is this about you getting engaged – I didn't even know you had a boyfriend… I thought you were gay."

Snorting, Elizabeth explained, "I met Samuel a while ago – a long while! We got together and we have fallen in love with one another-" Stacy barked out a laugh, unbelieving as Elizabeth continued more loudly, "He proposed ages ago and since then we've been working on getting ready to go to Lass Vegas."

"You're getting married in Las vegas – oh yeah, that's real love alright! Well done!" Stacy sardonically hollered, laughing.

"No!" Elizabeth squealed, brows drawn together and nose scrunched up, "His parents live there! We're going there so I can meet them."

"You haven't met his parents? Seriously, what is wrong with you Elizabeth – you never rush into things and you always ask for my opinion of the men you see." Stacy's voice quietened, "Are you sure about this man Lizzie?"

Fiercely biting her lips, Elizabeth stared at the rebellious suitcase as her now free hand pushed down upon the clothes.

"Elizabeth, are you still there? Are you okay?" Stacy nervously inquired.

Nodding to herself, Elizabeth drew back from the suitcase. She slammed the lid down and successfully, though a little haphazardly, zipped it shut. "I am sure." She determinedly said with her hands on her hips, staring at the shut case. She stomped her foot and turned to look at her phone, softly restating herself, "I'm sure."

"Okay then, but do take care of yourself and I am here… if you'll have me." Stacy told her, "Anways, I've got to go, so I'll talk to you later, yeah? Look, message me when you're in Vegas and settled. I want to be sure you are okay."

"Okay, bye." Elizabeth replied, moving towards the phone. A small smile teasing her pink lips, she hung up.

"I'm going to Vegas." She whispered to herself, staring around the almost empty flat. "We're going to Vegas – oh god!" she exclaimed, hand thrown up and smacking against the forehead, "I'm meeting his parents. What do I do? What do I say? Ugh, what am I supposed to do?"

* * *

Shuffling in her seat, Elizabeth groaned.

"Stop it," Sam chuckled, lightly squeezing her hand, "Just look out the window and suck on your sweets. You'll be fine."

Nodding, she did as told. It did not ease her mind. She was going to meet his parents. He was going to introduce her to them very soon. In only a few hours they would arrive at the airport and then get a taxi to his parent's new home.

"Where is it again?" She asked, swiftly turning to look at him. Still watching the screen above the aisle, Samuel replied, "It's just the suburbs sweetheart. There's no need to worry, we're outside the city. You won't even be able to hear the emergency services. Not like here."

Frowning, Elizabeth clarified, "I didn't grow up in the city you know. I only moved there because of Uni. Before that I was in the countryside – always." She turned her head away from him and stared out the small window at the empty plane parked opposite their own, "Now I won't even finish university."

Sighing, Samuel stoked her hand, tightening his grip, "You don't need to. Elizabeth you won't be working. I'll work for my father and then I'll take over when he retires." Moving closer, he whispered into her ear, her hair tickling his nose, "You'll never want for anything. Whatever you want: clothes, jewellery or a better house. I can give you that. There's no need for you to work, so no need for you to attend university." He brushed his nose into her light brown locks and inhaled the sea-salt smell of her shampoo and conditioner, saying as he drew away from her, "When would History have ever come in handy anyway? You can't get a real job with a degree like that."

Glaring out the window, Elizabeth snapped, "Economics, politics and Business isn't everything Sam."

"Sweetheart, your degree is more of a retiree's hobby than a qualification." He told her, letting go of her hand and picking up the magazine the netted sleeve of the chair in front of him.

* * *

It was cold. She had not anticipated that. Apparently, though deserts are hot during the day, at night they get just as cold. The heat dissipates through the night and the critters come out to feast. Spiders, scorpions and mice run rampant. All creatures do. Thankfully Sam's parents lived in the suburbs, so there were only really cats and dogs roaming the streets. After all, what creature would want to live amongst a multitude of humans?

As the taxi pulled up outside a house, which appeared to be of the same design as every other in the surrounding area, Elizabeth unfolded her arms and opened the back car door. The driver clambered out as well, heading to the boot of the car to retrieve the suitcases. Sam moved ahead and hastily rapped on the front door.

"Sam," Elizabeth growled, "Be quieter, people are probably trying to sleep."

He shrugged, gesturing to his parent's house, "How else will they hear us?"

Shaking her head and wrapping her arms round herself, attempting to stop shivering, Elizabeth glanced about the silent street. Row upon row of houses, newly built and most with their indoor lights turned off. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking at those nearby that still retained some light. A young man opposite Sam's parent's house had a desk lamp on, curtains wide open. He was writing at the desk, light beside him. A few houses down from that of Sam's parent's was another house with a few lights on. She could not see properly through the blinds of the windows, but the moving silhouettes suggested a gathered group. Elizabeth jumped, startled, as the driver dropped her suitcase before her. Ignoring her irritated visage, he dragged Sam's out and dropped that unceremoniously as well.

"Finally, it's about time Dad." She heard Sam exclaim.

"Sorry, your mother is trying to make herself: decent." His father replied, mockingly.

"She'll look fine," Sam said, trying to catch a glimpse of the inside of the house, "It's not like she's meeting the president."

Elizabeth smothered a laugh, as she grasped the handle of her suitcase. Her nose scrunched at the sight. Even in the dim lighting of porch at night the pink of her case seemed to glow. If it weren't or being useful, she would have binned it eons ago when her grandmother first bought it for her. She did not like pink enough to buy a pink suitcase. Whatever happened to a traditional black suitcase like Sam's?

"Lizzie-beth, leave them." Sam called, gesturing for her to join him and his father at the front door.

Pulling her suitcase behind her despite what he said. Elizabeth raised her right hand to his father, smiling and politely introducing herself, "Hiya, I'm Elizabeth. It's wonderful to finally meet you."

Chuckling loudly, Sam's father grasped her hand with both of his own and declared, "My you've gotten yourself quite a pretty thing Sam. Please, get inside! Don't want you getting sick flower – you're hands are freezing already!"

Wincing at the volume of his voice, considering the hush of the rest of the houses along the street, Elizabeth trailed her case through the warm hallway. The taxi driver hauled Sam's suitcase into the passage, leaving after being paid. Elizabeth left her suitcase by the living-room door and followed Sam and his father into the kitchen.

"It's brilliant to finally get a glimpse of you. I'm-"

"Bill, don't just stand talking at her! Get her a drink!" A shrill voice cried. A tall lanky woman entered, adorned by a pink dressing gown, forcing her wild black curls into a ponytail. The woman turned from her husband, huffing and shook Elizabeth's hand, "It's wonderful to meet you dear." Turning to her son, she asked, "Was the flight okay? Bill said that first class was already fully booked. I can't believe you had to get a regular seat with all those… other people."

"It was quite alright Mrs Grant," Elizabeth insisted, interrupting a stuttering Sam, "We're not strangers to regular travel."

Mrs Grant sniffed, nostrils flaring, "Still my dear, I am so sorry for that. We booked the tickets and didn't realise until afterwards. When we called up they said they didn't have any. Unbelievable, I know. We're not filthy rich, but we're not animals are we?"

"It's fine, really." Elizabeth anxiously twittered.

"Mom, Elizabeth is used to it and I've gotten used to it myself after all that time getting to and from university." Sam certified, going on to announce, "Elizabeth is actually the one to help me with all that. It is how we met isn't it sweetheart?"

Elizabeth giggled, "Yes, he looked so terribly sorry for himself."

He lightly nudged her in the side, laughing with her, "Hey, I wasn't that bad!"

"You had a ticket for central station, but were trying to get on a train that was going in the other direction. If that isn't lost I don't know what it is!"

"Ah, so you rescued him – how refreshing! I do like a modern love story." Mrs Grant expressed, pushing Bill away from the kettle. "I'll get that." She insisted, waving him away and pulling a few mugs from a cupboard.

"Right," Bill said, sitting down at a long wooden table and gesturing for the newly engaged couple to do the same. "Which one did you get her then?" he asked Sam.

"Ah, well when I went I didn't like the other one." He took Elizabeth's hand and showed the ring to his father, "I think we're both very pleased with this ring, aren't we?" he asked her. She nodded, watching the two men with a large smile.

His father whistled, "If she likes it, its money well spent son. Glad you're grandfathers inheritance came in handy for something. Now we've just got a wedding to plan – you'll be helping Elizabeth with that won't you Julia?"

"What? Oh, yes!" Julia abandoned the hot chocolates, settling besides Elizabeth at the table, "I've got tonnes of magazines for you to look through – I know that the styles in England are different. We can look through them together starting tomorrow."

"Yes, she's very excited. Julia's always wanted a daughter just for this reason." Bill chortled, as Sam got to his feet to tend to the drinks.

"Are you better warmed up dear?" Julia ventured, stroking Elizabeth's thin jacket sleeves.

"Yes, thank you." She replied, tugging the jacket closer, "I think I just need a warm bed and I'll be fine."

"Of course, you're probably very tired." Julia exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Forget the drink Sam. I'll take Elizabeth up to the guest room you'll be having whilst you're both here."

"Alright, I'll be up soon sweetheart." He kissed her on the cheek and passed a hot chocolate to his father, "You pop off to sleep. I promise I'll be quiet when I come up."

* * *

Throwing the nightgown onto the bed, Elizabeth turned to the door and wished her soon to be mother-in-law a good night. After the woman had left, a giddy grin on her wrinkling visage, Elizabeth shut the bedroom door. She flicked the blaring light off and instead moved to the other side of the room and turned on the bedside lamp. It was much more accommodating to her tired eyes.

Picking up the nightgown, Elizabeth sat on the bed and stared out at the sky from between the blinds of the window. Quite a few stars gleaming, she was reminded of the countryside back in England. "Just like home." She verbally thought to herself.

Getting back to her feet she turned from the window and removed her jacket. She clawed at her grey t-shirt and undid the buttons of her light denim jeans. She folded the shirt and twisted round to leave it on the side table beneath the lamp.

Elizabeth stopped.

The shirt fell to the floor, crinkling.

She stared out the window.

At one of the houses across the street there stood a man.

Wiping her eyes, Elizabeth looked again. He was still there, shadowed by the darkness. His porch light was not on despite his presence. He remained there, seemingly gazing at the sky as she had moments before.

Shaking herself, Elizabeth reached down and snatched up her shirt. She tossed it onto the bedside table and hastily grabbed the cord for the blinds, shutting them.

Quickly changing, she brushed her teeth with a brush and toothpaste Sam's parent's provided in the guestroom en-suite. She got into bed. Her hand reached over to the lamp, halting a moment.

Elizabeth sat up in bed and stared at the blinds, wondering.

Instead of satisfying her curiosity she laid down again, turning out the light and rolling onto her side and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Forever Indeed**

Keenly ripping the quilt from her sweating body, Elizabeth braced herself against the wall. Staring straight towards the hallway door, she heard Julia downstairs shouting at Bill who seemed to be arguing with the news report. Looking left, she spied that the bathroom door was not properly shut. As she tiptoed towards the en-suite, her hand brushed against the blinds of the window.

Halting, she gazed at the bland blinds. Swallowing, she timidly passed two fingers through a split opening and parted the gap further. As it widened, she bent down and keenly looked through. She grunted when the sunlight adorned her engagement ring. The stones glistened, assaulting her drowsy eyes.

Though various strangers walked the street upon that early morning, she could not pinpoint if the silhouette she had seen the night before was among them. Pulling away from the sunlight and retreating to look again towards the bathroom, Elizabeth sighed. "Sam, are you up?" she called.

The door whooshed open, startling her. His bright blue eyes, eagerly absorbing the sunshine that penetrated the blinds, gazed upon her broody figure. "Yeah," He threw a fluffy towel onto the bed and took her into his arms, hugging her closely, "What's with you sweetheart? You're usually the first one up."

Attempting to oppress the sneer that had flitted over her visage, she kissed his neck. "Sorry, I suppose it's that jet lag thing people always talk about."

Laughing loudly, Sam moved away to get a shirt from the wardrobe, slowly buttoning it. "Well, you're going to want to perk up really quickly." Grinning at her confused expression, he smugly continued, "I may be going to the office with Dad, but you're not getting off the hook sweetheart." He moved back to her, stroking her arms as she began to do up some of his buttons. One hand coming up to stroke her cheek, he tenderly murmured, "Mom wants to start going through the wedding magazines today."

Eyes swiftly closing and nose scrunching, Elizabeth refrained from releasing a distasted 'Ugh'. Sam smiled down at her, reassuring her, "You'll be fine. Just explain that you're tired and I'm sure she'll go easier on you." She pressed her left palm to his chest, internally thriving on the strong pounding of his heart, and thanking him. "I have to go," he dourly droned.

A large smile overcame her pursed lips. Brown eyes wide, Elizabeth teased, "That's too bad, because we've got a bed right here that could do with being christened."

He whined, nudging her away as she grasped the bottom of his shirt and tugged his body closer to her own. "Don't Lizzie-beth – that's not fair!"

"Are you ready?" breached Bill's voice.

Elizabeth jumped, releasing Sam's shirt and pushing him away. Lightly snickering at her anxiety, he heaved a heavy sigh. "I'll be back later tonight. We'll start looking at houses if you like. I think Mom knows someone that could help."

Smiling impishly at him as he sauntered from the bedroom, Elizabeth breathed out an 'okay'. He was able to shoot one last beaming grin at her as he tottered down the staircase, his flaxen hair bouncing as he went.

* * *

Julia giggled, laying another plate onto the table. Elizabeth grimaced at the sight of the pancakes, turning instead to gaze at her cereal despite her lack of liking for it. Sugared fragments peered up at her from a cream bowl. She dug a large spoon into the mixture and lifted out a helping of soppy grains. Tilting the spoon, she allowed the sludge to slop itself downwards and into the creamy pottery. Sniffing indignantly, she hurriedly discarded the spoon and grabbed a glass of water sitting to her right.

"He got most of his father's features." Julia abruptly commented, holding a photo frame out to Elizabeth. "He only got my eyes. I was hoping he'd at least have my hair, but I suppose you can't have everything."

Humming, Elizabeth placed the frame in front of her cereal. A younger Julia stood holding a much smaller Sam whose bright eyes and fair hair shined even in the shade of a large office building. His skin-kissed flesh glowed and Elizabeth laughed, quickly glancing up to catch her reflection in the kitchen window. Her own, much more pale, skin did not glow as his. The sun that soared through the glass and immersed the home in sunlight tore at her features. Her skin seemed washed against the orange vest top she wore that blazed under the penetrating rays. Her blue jeans, also enamoured by the light, beamed. Her eyes, sunken due to the darkness of the bags around her brown eyes, were overshadowed by her black eyebrows. Her fingers snagged on un-brushed knots, as she ran a hand through her lengthy light brown hair.

Elizabeth recoiled, as a magazine slammed down upon the table. Julia plucked the photo frame away, suggesting, "We should get started dear." She sat beside Elizabeth and began to pick at the pancakes, "Would you like to start with the dress, venue or perhaps," Pouring cream atop the cakes, she emphasised, "You'd like to begin with the _food_."

Drawling her index finger over the glossy cover and staring at the pleased model coated in white, Elizabeth blithely sighed. "I'm still quite exhausted actually. Maybe we could start with something smaller – less important. I might find that easier." She delicately murmured.

Crossing her arms and leaning on the table, Julia peered more closely at Elizabeth. She scraped her nails into the young lady's hair and brushed it away from her face, morosely exclaiming, "You do still seem drained, but we must have at least one of the big decisions out of the way. We'll start small and work our way up. Now finish your breakfast."

Brows twitching downwards slightly and ignoring the mushy mess in the cream bowl, Elizabeth mumbled, "How many decisions am I to make today?"

"Just a few," Julia cried out, wildly waving her arms and motioning for Elizabeth to open the magazine.

"Right…" Elizabeth muttered miserably.

* * *

Snatching her jacket from the banister, Elizabeth dashed towards the front door. Her hair lashed at her neck as she heatedly turned her head, calling back towards the kitchen with a colossal smile, "I'll be back soon! I promise I will. I just really need some fresh air – this headache won't cure itself!" She tore the door open and ran down the pathway, leaving Julia with ten magazines and three solidified decisions.

* * *

Stomping on weeds, Elizabeth snorted. She held tightly to the chains of the swing, faintly swishing back and forth. "What family is coming?" She lowly jeered, failing to imitate Julia's accent. "What about your mother? Don't you have one?" using her foot to break the stems of the small weeds that grew in the cracked ground beneath her feet, Elizabeth continued to mutter nefariously, "What about you father?"

Barring her teeth together and gnashing, Elizabeth growled, "What father?" She stomped, pushing the swing back and dragging the weed along the ground as she went. Bleeding, the entrails of the plant blew away in the slight breeze. Panting, Elizabeth moaned, "Why is it so hot?" She threw her head back and stared at the blue sky. "Like his eyes," she fondly murmured, "Sam… why does your mother have to be so insufferably nosy?"

Straightening, she continued to swing, backwards and forwards.

* * *

Eyes closed, Elizabeth listened to the patter of feet. Children waded home. The glare of the sun was not so upfront now and she absentmindedly sighed, as the heat lifted from her shoulders. Trainers stuck to the ground, Elizabeth leaned backwards and forwards somewhat swaying the swing. She leaned her head against the chain and her left hand, feeling the point of the ring digging into her skull. "Sam, please come find me." She whispered. Opening her eyes a little to stare out across the park, she focused on the entrance gate.

No one came through it.

Sighing, Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and looked up at the sky. No grey clouds hung over the landscape as they would have back home. There was no sea-salt air blowing in from the north and she whimpered when she realised Sam was unlikely to come for her and convey the way back to his parents' house.

Groaning, she pattered her feet. She felt too lazy to get up, but was too disturbed by the thought of being lost not to search for the Grant house. Letting her head tilted downwards, she stared at the ground. Her trainers left harsh dents in the earth and the majority of the weed she had slaughtered remained splayed. Offering it a pitiful apology, she leisurely began to swing again. Rocking herself, Elizabeth stared back up at the sky and watched the stars awaken.

"It's so pretty," she crooned, "An accumulation never to be found elsewhere, but in the most parched of places."

A hand pushed on her back.

She squealed, as her body was thrust forwards.

As she swung back, the hand reached out again. "What?" she stuttered, attempting to turn her head and catch a glimpse of the person. "Sam?" she hesitantly ventured, feeling the power stored behind the palm that continued to push her.

"Why parched?" the intruder inquired.

Throttling another alarmed cry, Elizabeth uncomfortably explained, "Parched, because there is no life."

"Continue." He instructed.

"Parched, because this place seems void of life and the world seems to thrive upon life. There is little life here. Thus, it is parched for life. Though I suppose if it were to have life it would likely steal it of the view above." Elizabeth attempted to clarify, her voice dwindling with uncertainty.

Gruffly chuckling, he retorted, "Ah, but there is so much life beneath the sand. You'd be surprised." As she tried to twirl round on the swing to see him, he pushed her more sternly, "You're only talking about humans though, stealing the light of the stars away with their bulbs."

Scowling, Elizabeth snarled. She reached back, as the swing returned to the stranger's clutches and pushed him. Her hand met a firm chest. Eyes widening, her mouth opened with a shocked cry as he grasped her arm with both hands. As she pushed him back, he took her with himself.

Landing on him with a pained 'ouch', Elizabeth swiftly scuttled to her feet. She jammed a knee into his stomach as she did so, but he did not seem to mind. He stared up at her, as she loomed above.

Mouth opening and closing repeatedly, she exuded nonsense sounds. Elizabeth revelled in the mirrored starry image in his black eyes. Hazily, her mind wandered to moonless nights by the sea back in England. She shook her head. His pale hand reached for hers, though there was no vibrancy to his veins. Her own blue veins thumped, as his cold claw slid over her skin. He firmly gripped at her right hand and pulled himself up. She shuddered, as the cold seeped through her clothes. It wrapped round her bones and she shivered a second time. He peered down at her, callously.

"I'm sorry," she stumbled, gasping, "I shouldn't have pushed you. That was uncalled for."

He licked his lips, smiling. Bending down, her gaze following him, he grasped a misplaced apple. Elizabeth stared as he straightened, watching as he rubbed the apple against his clad chest. He raised the fruit to his lips. Absentmindedly she nipped at her own pink lips, her tongue darting out to moisten them. Steadfastly, his teeth glowered at her as he bit away a chunk of the fruit.

Elizabeth blinked. Looking at him look at her, she felt her body burn with something akin to embarrassment. Thanking that her cheeks were unlikely to have reddened, she coughed. "I'm Elizabeth."

He did not reply, merely staring at her, licking the apple juice from his lips. His tongue slid slowly across his teeth. Elizabeth gulped, averting her gaze to their shoes.

She balked, gasping, when he finally spoke.

"I'm Jerry."

Infected by his smile, her own lips widened massively and strained the muscles in her cheeks. His grin grew as well.

Jerry wordlessly held the apple out to her.

Smile rapidly vanishing, Elizabeth gawked at the offer. Her eyelashes furiously fluttering, she timidly reached out. She took the apple. He nodded to it, then to her. She turned it round to a side unscathed. Raising it to her parched pink lips, she looked up at him as he watched her take an inconsequential bite. His smile became more frivolous, as he remarked, "I don't believe you bite so small with a grin that large." He towered over her, clasping her shoulders and pulling her closer. Elizabeth tightened her grip on the apple, her breath faltering. "Take a proper bite love… You look like you need it after being out here all day without even some breakfast."

"Have you been watching me?" Elizabeth queried, forgetting the apple.

"Have you been watching me?" he returned, taking hold of her hands. She tried to pull them free, compressing the apple between her hands further as she yanked. His grip did not wane. Elizabeth found no release. Her cheeks puffing up with air, Elizabeth twisted her arms. She failed to build up enough strength from the movement to wrench away from him. "Let me go." she gasped.

Jerry freed her.

He shook his head, as she staggered back. Clumsily Elizabeth grabbed the stand of the swing, regaining her balance. Amused, he snickered. Crossing his arms, Jerry lifted a hand to cover his mouth to evade her from catching the smirk that breached his impassive facet.

Dropping the apple, Elizabeth glared up at him. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Chuckling, Jerry uncovered his mouth and allowed his lustrous teeth to shine upon her shorter being, "I told you. I'm Jerry." At her silence and sustained scowl, he continued more casually, "I live opposite the Grants."

Eyes widening, brows quickly rising, Elizabeth exclaimed, "You live near the Grants!"

Nodding, one eyebrow raised, Jerry stepped closer and leaned against the post she was holding onto.

Elizabeth coyly stammered, "Cou-could you… take me back there?" She leaned towards him, looking up into his eyes and puckering her lips.

Laughing loudly, he shifted away from her, "Of course"

Dubiously staring after his imposing figure, Elizabeth watched his phantom-like figure drift further away from her.

Clambering after the suspicious spectre, she trod on the apple. Its sides divided and juice spilled over the wrecked weed that sat beside her swing, mingling.

* * *

Most of the homes they passed were unlit. Having left her phone in her other pair of jeans, likely to have remained splayed on the bedroom floor, she would not have been so ignorant of the time. The trail he took her on seemed longer than necessary. However, to pass the time, he seemed content asking questions.

"I saw the two of you arrive last night." He told her.

Elizabeth shivered and though it was growing colder still, she suspected it was his fixed stare that caused the act. "Yes, Sam and I have come to visit his parents." She crossed her arms and stroked them, hoping to buffer herself from more than the cold.

"Ah," Jerry whirred, "He's brought you to meet his parents."

Tentatively Elizabeth murmured a quiet, 'aha'.

Halting, he grabbed her left hand. Shredding her arms apart and leering, "That's an exquisite engagement ring." He held her hand above her eyesight and tilted it side to side, studying the flickering echoes of the street lamplights nearby. "Diamonds," he murmured, "You know you could scratch a window with those and they'd never smear."

Tugging her hand from him, Elizabeth huffed, "I know I'm not a simpleton."

Jerry's smile lingered, "He would have you that way though, wouldn't he?"

"Shut up." Elizabeth sharply ordered, re-crossing her arms and continuing at a more harried walk.

Chortling, he carried on with her

"You're accent suggests you've come a long way, Elizabeth."

Shocked, she turned to look at him as they strolled.

"That is your name, isn't it? You said so yourself." He questioned, feigning a frown.

Choking down a cry, Elizabeth cast her sight away from him in attempt to escape his seemingly fixed attention. "I'm just surprised you're using my name." she uttered, "You seem a little… detached."

Jerry nodded, though she did not notice as she took to counting the number of houses they passed, "I move around a lot, so it's odd knowing I'll be staying here for quite a while. Guess I'm not used to getting to know the people I meet."

Humming, Elizabeth fell quiet and hoped to sustain the silence despite the evolving awkwardness.

"You're from England, right?" He continued, as she closed her eyes and attempted to smother an irritated sigh.

Opening her eyes, she turned her head to him as they marched on. Glowering at his guiltless visage, she clarified, "Yes," a smirk overpowering her glare, "You've got an accent beneath that American yourself."

"True." He confirmed.

Glare returning, Elizabeth asked, "Have you ever been to England?"

"I've been a few times, all long ago." Jerry blatantly declared.

Looking to a lonely lit window, Elizabeth caught sight of two figures dancing behind the blinds. Jerry followed her eyesight, rolling his eyes with a discreet scoff.

Her ears picked up on the noise and she studied his indifferent expression, saying, "You live by yourself then." As he confirmed her voiced thought, she gingerly pushed, "Where is your family?"

Jerry's body juddered. Taking an excessive breath, his brows plunging and lips compressing, he confessed, "Gone."

"Oh." Elizabeth gracelessly responded.

She saw his fists clench and arms quiver. She boldly took hold of his right arm, squeezing it, "I'm sure there's more family out there, somewhere, right?"

It took a moment, but he howled. She jumped back, dropping his arm as he laughed vigorously.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, a few of the houses stirring, "Yes, there is always more family out there." He gazed at her, a smile pulling at his lips, "Above that is the capability of making new family."

Giving him an odd look, Elizabeth murmured, "Sure, I suppose that's what I'm doing myself. Sam's family will become mine."

"No they won't." Jerry intensely affirmed, fingers twitching.

Elizabeth, staggered, gaped at him.

"You're trying to get away, but by marrying him you're only pulling in more people you're already realising you seriously dislike." Jerry snorted, watching the scowl crawl over her astonished expression, "Maybe they'll even remind you of your old family." He tugged her closer and muttered, watching the front door open, "Overall, you're marrying him because he's safe, not because he has a family you can be a part of. They can't make you happy."

Stepping away from her, Jerry held his hands up in a surrendering fashion.

"Lizzie-beth!" Sam erratically bellowed, running from the house.

Before acknowledging her fiancé, Elizabeth muttered to Jerry, "I'm trapped either way, what with the internet and telephones and what not." He focused on her, ignoring Sam's blaring voice, "Do you know that? The sense of being trapped and the only potential escape… do you know that escape?"

Staring at one another, eyes fixated, they stepped closer. His hands lowered to his sides. Elizabeth wavered, as she held a hand up to caress his chilly cheek. His eyes gently closed. "Few escapes," she murmured, as he thrived not upon her touch but something sinister that upwelled within her voice. Her tone trembled, palm quivering and her breath clouding in the air between them, "You feel like death."

"Elizabeth," Sam tugged her away from Jerry and established himself between them, demanding, "Who are you?"

Jerry grinned at Sam, "I'm the new neighbour. I live opposite," he pointed to the house in question, "I've already met your mother – Julia," He waved to Bill who lingered in the doorway, "I'll probably be round some time… get to know you all properly."

Elizabeth smiled.

Sam grunted indignantly, pushing Elizabeth lightly towards the house. "Right," he said warily, "We should be getting in. it's very late."

"Early," Jerry corrected, "It is very early, for you."

"Good morning then." Elizabeth announced, as a fatigued smile overtook her once disturbed visage.

Smirking down at her, Jerry replied, "Good morning Elizabeth."

"Goodnight." Sam interrupted, trying to encourage her towards the house.

Jerry interjected their retreat, remarking, "A woman so pretty should be encased for eternity, don't you think Sam? Shouldn't she be forever, your love?"

Sam halted, turning from Elizabeth's tired form to stare at Jerry. "The best things are those that don't last." He sourly derided.

As the pair withdrew inside, Jerry wandered away himself, declaring, "I've got company soon anyway."

Opening his front door, he glanced over at the Grant house.

He keenly stated, "See you soon."


	3. Chapter 3

**Forever Indeed**

Her suitcase was still stood, unopened, in the hallway. She vaguely perceived Bill, as he informed her that Julia had gone to bed. Sam held her arms and walked her through the hall, up the stairs and into their bedroom.

"Let's get you to bed." He said.

Eyes straining to remain open, Elizabeth mumbled, "Are you mad?"

Sam sighed, rubbing his eyes, "Not with you."

Biting her lip, Elizabeth watched him undo the buttons of his shirt. She turned away. The wooden floor boards creaked, as she crept. The blinds were still closed from that morning. Frowning, she held her hand out to them. Her fingers scraped the coarse material.

"Lizzie-beth, get changed." Sam ordered. He threw some of her pyjamas at her.

"You went in my case." She proclaimed.

"No, I went into mine. I brought those spare pair you used to leave at my flat." He expanded, as his tone clipped.

She dropped the shorts and vest shirt onto the bed, turning back to the blinds.

Elizabeth was confounded. That man had been the one stood outside the night before. He had stared up at the stars, yet truly he had been watching her… watch him. Shaking her head, Elizabeth tore her jacket off. The orange vest top soon followed and then her bra.

"Mom says your phone has been ringing all day." Sam cautiously specified, as he got into bed.

Ignoring him, Elizabeth stared at the blinds again. Jerry had said he was having company over soon. Who would be visiting so early in the morning?

"Lizzie-beth," Sam interrupted. He slid over to her vacant side of the bed, reaching up and grabbing her wrist. "Sweetheart, what is it?"

Heavily exhaling, Elizabeth turned away from the blinds. She gazed into his bright eyes and sheepishly smiled. "I think I'm just tired."

"Then come to bed." He concluded, tugging on her wrist.

Though extremely tempted not to, to sift the blinds apart again as she had that morning and stare out across to Jerry, Elizabeth listened to Sam. He raised himself up and switched the main light off. She slinked into bed by his side. He coddled her. She snuggled into his warm body. Her cheek rested upon his chest as they settled on the bed, falling asleep in one another's weary embrace.

* * *

Jerry watched as the outlined figure in the window was drawn away from the transparent blinds. The light extinguished, the silhouette did not reappear. Nor did Elizabeth come to visit, as he envisioned. Her curiosity had not overcome what she felt for the fool.

He slammed his fist against the window frame. The wood splintered. The glass trembled. Jerry groaned. His hunger deepened.

No one visited him that early morning.

* * *

As she trotted down the stairs, Elizabeth rubbed the sand from her eyes. She could hear Julia complaining about the lack of made decisions. Julia also complained about the decisions already made. Scoffing, Elizabeth knocked on the kitchen doorframe. "Morning," she cheerily exclaimed, forcing a smile upon her fatigued visage. Compelled by their merry atmosphere, she sat with the trio. Sam stopped his mother from distributing a plate of pancakes to her and instead offered Elizabeth some buttered toast. She ate much, hastily.

"I'm surprised you're not eating the entire contents of the fridge with an appetite like that." Bill voiced with wide eyes. The bacon smudged across his bottom lip wiggled, as he spoke.

"Have you got work again today?" Elizabeth asked, brushing some dust from Sam's Blue suit. Nodding, mouth filled with cereal, Sam passed her another four slices of toast. He grunted through the food, "It's wholemeal – I made sure."

"I know," Elizabeth smiled genuinely, "It tastes like whole-meal."

"There's a difference?" Julia questioned, pushing herself between the pair to get at Sam's empty glass.

As Sam blurted out a harried 'yes', she filled the glass with more orange juice and placed it back atop the table.

"What are we doing today then?" Elizabeth ventured, hesitantly looking at Julia.

Her face brimming with glee, Julia exclaimed, "We're going to finish off those magazines today!"

Head tilting downwards, Elizabeth sighed. The rest of her toast lay sprawled across the plate, soiled by the butter.

"Now don't do that," Julia grumbled, "It is your own fault for not finalising more decisions yesterday. I may have given you today off if you had."

"Ah, yes, I heard you complaining earlier." Elizabeth sourly mentioned.

Giving her an unimpressed glance, Sam nipped at her arm. She rubbed the spot. He frowned disapprovingly, murmuring, "Be nice."

"You," Julia called, pointing a fork at Sam, as she sat down. "There are decisions that need to be made with you. You're a couple. You're supposed to do some of these things together." She turned to Bill, to her left, lecturing, "Your son needs a day off work to see to his wedding with his wife-to-be."

Bill wailed, "Julia, he can make decisions on the evenings – or even now!"

"No," Julia furiously insisted, "He needs to be here. If he's here all day for one day we might just get through most of it."

"We're going to be here all day. I doubt we'll be getting through it all." Elizabeth mumbled.

Scowling at her, Julia ranted, "If you'd put in some effort young lady we might get through it more efficiently." She jabbed her fork into her pancake stack, "Honestly, it's almost like you don't want to get married."

Sam's shoulders tensed. Elizabeth spared him a sympathetic glance. She rested a hand upon one of his shoulders and retorted, "I want to marry Sam. He's the only man I'd ever even consider marry. I didn't even have to consider anything when he asked. I just said yes."

"Perhaps you answered to nippily." Julia taciturnly responded.

"I love Sam. He keeps me human." Elizabeth aloofly concluded. Her chair screeched, as it scraped along the tiled floor. She rose from the seat and left, stomping up the stairs.

The guest bedroom door slammed.

Julia scoffed, picking at her pancakes.

"Mother," Sam abruptly conversed, "I don't appreciate the way you spoke to my fiancé just then." He pushed his plate away and rose from his chair, firmly finishing, "Do not speak to her like that again."

He attempted to trail after her, but Bill stood also. He pointed at the digital clock on the cooker. Sam sighed, looking up the staircase.

"I'll be back later sweetheart." He called.

Elizabeth did not reply.

* * *

Vaguely, Elizabeth heard Sam shout goodbye. Her eyes remained focused upon the glowing screen of her phone.

Elizabeth exhaled a snorting pant, shaking her head vicariously, as she sifted through the notifications. Her skin tightened, as her brows crumpled up. She frantically began deleting the notices, thump mercilessly jabbing the scene.

After the last missed call was cleared, Elizabeth texted Sam: _Need new phone._

The screen lit up, as she placed it back onto the bedside table.

Elizabeth rejected the call, heatedly damning the contraption with a rancour stare. Setting the phone on silent, Elizabeth smugly smiled. She opened the small draw of the table, throwing it in.

She walked round the edge of the bed and moved towards the door. Stopping, Elizabeth swivelled around on her feet and gazed out the window. Sam must have opened the blinds. The front garden was bathed in the shade of the house itself. The sun consumed the front of the houses opposite. Stepping closer to the window, Elizabeth stared at Jerry's house. Remembering, her body shuddered. The tips of her ears burned and her skin tingled. She almost mistook him to be otherworldly. He seemed as cold-blooded as he was physically cold. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. The windows of his house were black. She frowned, hissing, "I can have a new family; a better one."

She jumped. The front door of the house next to Jerry's was ferociously opened. Her heart calmed, as a woman waltzed out with boxes. The suited lady struggled to reach her pocket and raise a set of keys. The car in the woman's driveway unlocked. Elizabeth turned from the window, brushing a hand through her hair. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, trying to pull her hand away. Stray hairs caught on the teeth of her engagement ring.

Elizabeth took a moment to glower at the draw containing her phone.

Huffing, she vacated the room. She did so with a slight spring in her steps, gleefully calling out, "Julia where are those magazines? I feel like making some important decisions."

* * *

She enjoyed it immensely until the sun peaked over the roof of the Grant house.

Julia had said the flora required trimming. She laid out a picnic rug, some water and shears. Elizabeth had sat down, legs crossed, flipping through the remaining magazines.

Cutting at the branches of particularly thick foliage, Julia called out, "Have you thought about the flowers?" Elizabeth tied her hair back and rubbed at her sweltering neck. She sighed heavily, eyes briefly closing.

"I think that's probably one of those decisions I'm supposed to make with Sam." Elizabeth replied, turning a page.

The shades of the dresses on the bright page twirled. The grass danced in the slow tepid breeze, as Elizabeth held her head. She closed her eyes again. The spinning did not falter. Her body swayed.

"What about your dress then? Have you at least thought about that?" Julia cried out, snipping at more branches.

Elizabeth's snapped open, weeping as the sun assaulted them. She groaned, "Not particularly."

* * *

As a result of the increasing heat, Elizabeth's hair frizzed. It broke free of the bobble she shackled it up into and mugged her of her eyesight, as she finished the last magazine. The sun was falling now.

"Oh!" Julia exclaimed, waving at a car. It pulled into the driveway of the house opposite, beside Jerry's. Elizabeth squinted, as she tried to see passed her ratty hair. The woman she had seen leave earlier got out the car. She returned Julia's eccentric wave, though not as enthusiastically. "Jane!"

Jane's black heels clomped on the cemented road, as she crossed over from her side of the street. She plodded up the path of the Grant house. Julia pulled her into a hug. As she wiped some greenery from her suit, Jane asked, "How are you Julia? I got your message yesterday." She glanced at Elizabeth, "Is this her?"

Julia's smile waned, "Yes, this is Elizabeth."

"It's wonderful to meet you. I bet you and Sam are quite a couple." Jane greeted, holding her hand out. Elizabeth stood up, walking over to the pair and shook Jane's hand.

With a tentative grin, she replied, "Thank you, its brilliant to meet you… who are you?"

"Oh how silly of me!" Julia expressed, dropping her shears and pulling some protective gloves from her hands, "I thought Sam would have told you. Jane is the real-estate friend of mine that's agreed to help the two of you search for a house."

"Ah, you sell houses." Elizabeth murmured, gazing at the name tag attached to Jane's smart jacket.

"Well there's much more to it than that," Jane corrected, voice firm as one of Elizabeth's eyebrows rose dubiously, "I'll be showing you what your options are, the issues with finance like debt, the likelihood of remodelling and the services required for moving as well as going through the buying process. There are a lot more things that need to be discussed, but those are a few of the main matters."

Vaguely nodding, Elizabeth smiled, "Well you seem confident."

"Ah, Jane's the best." Jerry intervened.

All three of the women jumped. Julia raised a hand to her chest, crumpling the material of her shirt, "My goodness Mr Dandridge. You almost made my heart give out!" she wailed.

"You certainly do like popping up out of nowhere." Jane commented, grinning, "Do you get some sick satisfaction from startling others?"

He took a moment, breathing deeply. Eyes darkened and tone lowered, he answered, "Yes, it makes your blood run."

Elizabeth frowned at him, "How barbaric."

He smirked, "I'm only joking." He turned to stare the discarded shears, "Garden work so late in the evening Mrs Grant."

Julia chortled, "Gosh, well if you're up it must be getting late. I'll pop them away – be right back!"

She snatched the shears and gloves from the grassy lawn, tottering off into the house.

"Lovely woman, if a little over-excited at times." Jane babbled. Jerry nodded, humming in agreement to what she said as his eyes followed Elizabeth's figure. She towered the magazines and folded the blanket she had been sat upon for the most part of the day.

"You don't seem to have tanned very well." Jerry abruptly commented, cutting through Jane's ceaseless chatter.

Elizabeth ignored him, back facing the two. Jane shuffled her feet, tapping them against the path. As an awkward silence threatened to overhang the trio, she announced, "Well I had better get inside. Charley will be expecting dinner when he gets home." Beginning to head back across the road, Jane called to Elizabeth, "I'll be over in a day or two to discuss the house with you and Sam, okay?"

Elizabeth waved her away with an inexpressive nod. Jerry remained.

Julia returned, hurrying. "Now Mr Dandridge I would invite you in, but I'm afraid the house is in a bit of a state at the moment. Elizabeth here still hasn't taken care of her suitcase, which continues to loiter in the hallway – and Bill has paperwork laid about the livingroom. We've not been able to use it for days now." She laughed.

Elizabeth sneered behind Julia's back. She hauled the magazines into her arms, muttering, "I'll take these in."

"I'm certain it's not that bad Mrs grant. I've barely unpacked myself, boxes everywhere." Jerry grinned, "I can't even find half of my mugs."

"Oh how silly of me. You're working most of the evening aren't you? You must be so exhausted when you get home, not able to sift through that sea of stuff." Julia compassionately noted. She stroked his arm, declaring, "We must have you ov-"

"Hey!" A voice cried out, "Hey, how are you Mrs Grant!"

Elizabeth snorted, as she returned. A young lad bounded up between Julia and Jerry, separating them. "Mrs Grant you shouldn't be out right now – it's getting late." He declared. Turning to Jerry he boldly stressed, "Don't you have work?"

Jerry's grin broadened, "Yes, you're completely right Charley. How was school?"

"You better hurry then Mr Dandridge. We wouldn't want to keep you from your job." The lad suggested.

Julia agreed, "Charley's right. I certainly wouldn't want to get you into trouble for being late."

As she retreated into the house, she called out, "Come along Elizabeth. We'll make some biscuits together for when the boys get back. They should be home very soon. It's almost seven."

Elizabeth slowly began to tiptoe backwards into the house. Her focus remained solely upon Jerry and the young lad. Both seemed tense in one another's presence. She tilted her head. The further she got from them, the less she could hear. However, not much was said.

Charley glared up at Jerry. Jerry merely stood stock still. His impressive person overshadowed Charley without exerting much effort and the imposing figure he conveyed seemed to make the young boy shrink. His confidence sinking, Charley slinked away from Jerry and over to his house. Jerry watched him tread over the road and onto the garden. As charley slammed his front door, Jerry's attention finally diverted.

Elizabeth turned away, as Jerry peered at her. She ignored him, as he called out to wish her a pleasant evening.

She closed the front door, locking it.

Jerry and Charley did not get along. She gazed through the stained glass of the front door. He continued to stand in front of the Grant house. Her eyes squinted, nose crinkling, as she tried to make out his frame through the patterned glass.

"Elizabeth, come on! These biscuits won't make themselves." Julia yelled from the kitchen.

Sighing, Elizabeth rested her head against the cool glass of the door, responding, "Coming!"

Glaring at the ominous statue outside, she muttered, "Don't you have to get to work, Mr Dandridge?" She pushed away from the door and joined Julia in the kitchen. Though they made wonderful shortbread biscuits, the sugary smell did cast the short interaction between Jerry and Charley from her mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Forever Indeed**

Emergency service vehicles whirled round a corner, parking nearby the house. Police tape was set up and the neighbourhood children were beginning to crowd round. Some wardens stopped the crew from venturing onto the garden. The camera man directed the lens towards a young red haired woman holding a microphone.

She spoke, "Early this morning three more victims have been discovered. However, instead of commuting city workers, this time the victims are a family in the suburbs." She turned quickly to watch ambulance workers cart a bagged body away. The woman brushed back her red fringe, looking into the camera again, "Officials have stated before that the recent violent killings are considered serious and their priority at this moment. Despite this, there has been little to no suggestion as to who the killer – or killers – may be. Those living in the shadow of the city of Las Vegas have this to say-"

"Turn that rubbish off." Julia demanded, tapping Sam on the shoulder. He ignored her, choosing instead to turn the small television up.

Bill gulped down a mug of black coffee before grumbling, "Oh leave him alone Julia. He's got a right to listen anyway. Why just last week I lost one of my workers to that maniac."

"Bill! You never said anything about this. When was this? Who was this?" Julia gasped with eyes wide. Her hands clutched at her silky dressing gown and anxiously fiddled with the knot. Panicked eyes glancing over to Sam, she stuttered "Is it safe; for the two of you to be wandering into the city?"

"Did you not just hear what the reporter said?" Elizabeth goaded, "They're no safer here in the suburbs. The killer knows no bounds."

Julia huffed, shooting Elizabeth a dirty look. "Stop it!" She hissed.

Sam spared his breakfast no attention. On the other hand, Bill gorged on the croissants and coupled them with French toast. Elizabeth downed a glass of water and nibbled on a croissant of her own. "Sam will be off the next few days after tomorrow anyway," Bill blurted through a mouthful of croissant pastry. Elizabeth sneered, abandoning her own as a few flakes escaped his gob and flew across the table. "I've given him a few days off like you asked, Julia."

"What about this person at your office?" Sam asked, turning the television off as the weather began to screen.

"Wha – oh! Right, Andy. He was a bit of a rowdy man to be fair." Bill confessed, "As soon as work was done he'd be off for a quick drink or two before home. Would always invite everyone of course, but most of the time it would just be him I think."

"What happened to him then?" Elizabeth pried, sharing a curious glance with Sam. Julia snorted, muttering incoherently and stiffly refilling her glass of orange juice.  
"Well, I was called in by the cops – being the last to have seen him before he left work." He downed the last of his coffee, noisily smacking his lips together before continuing, "When they did call me I thought they suspected me, but when I got there… they had me identify the body."

The three leaned over the table, as Julia leaned back. She grabbed a discarded wedding magazine and focused upon the dresses inside, cringing with revulsion.

"His throat had been ripped out," Bill told them lowly, "They don't have a clue as to whose responsible. I do recall one of them saying that it has to be only one killer." He held up a pudgy finger for emphasis, "A group of people can't get away with this many kills – tongues would wag, the copper had said." He shovelled another forkful of croissant into his mouth, chomping. "I did notice one thing though," pastry flew out and Sam wiped some of it from his cheek.

"What?" Elizabeth murmured, staring at the man.

"Some of his clothes were missing," Bill concluded. Sam and Elizabeth exchanged confused frowns, as Julia laughed.

"His clothes," She hollered, "The killer took his clothes?"

Bill slammed his hand on the table, furiously glaring at his wife, "Not all of them!"

Taking a deep breath, he respired, "His jacket and new scarf."

He chuckled, stealing the left over croissant from Elizabeth's plate, "Granted the red scarf was very nice, but that grey jacket."

Sam exclaimed, "Yeah, why take the jacket and not the pants to go with it?"

Bill shook his head, "Besides," He prudishly continued, "That grey jacket was god awful, such an eyesore."

As Julia snapped up Elizabeth's empty plate, Sam uttered that they needed to get to the office. Before vacating the kitchen, Bill grabbed his coat and concluded, "Of course the poor sod had his gold watch and wallet taken an all. It's one thing to kill a man in cold blood, but to take that watch. His sister got that for him just last Christmas."

After they had left, Elizabeth slowly turned to look at Julia. She bitterly muttered, "What are we to do now?"

Julia's lips stretched upwards, her teeth gleaming in the kitchen light, "We're having a guest over later this evening. Put away that frown young lady and help me get the vegetables ready."

Pouting, Elizabeth grabbed the apron Julia threw at her from across the dining table.

* * *

Black hair tied in a neat bun, Julia inserted silver floral pins that shined in the glow of the kitchen hallway light. "Are you ready Bill?" she called. He stumbled down the staircase, still in his brown suit from that morning.

He groused, "I don't know why we have to make such a fuss."

"I agree with Dad," Sam loudly interjected, as he attempted to straighten his tie.

Julia slapped his hands away and began to sort it herself, "It's important to set a certain standard. We don't want to be thought badly of."

"Go see if Elizabeth is done yet." Julia ordered, "Honestly, I don't know why she needs so long in front of the mirror."

Sam murmured, feet trampling up the stairs, "She likes to make sure she looks perfect."

"Well I know I said that it's a special guest, but he's not the Pope." Julia retorted, "Sam! Get that suitcase of hers too!"

Sighing, he did so. Trailing it up the stairs with continuous thumps as it knocked against each step, he called out, "Lizzie-beth are you done with the bathroom yet?"

Elizabeth took the case from him, quietly announcing, "Yes, do you know whose coming round?"

"No, mom won't budge." He grinned, "It's not the Pope though, so that's one person down."

A small laugh escaped her, "Very funny Sam."

"Thank you, took me all night." Sam sardonically confessed. More seriously, he asked her, "Are you going to be okay tonight? I know what you're like when it comes to new people – especially when you don't even know their name."

Elizabeth nodded, as he pulled her into a hug, "I'll be fine… as long as you're there."

Pecking him on the lips, she smiled up at him. "Julia told me Jane will be round tomorrow."

"That's brilliant. We can have the house search started tomorrow and then the rest of the weekend will be just for us two." Sam blissfully declared, twirling her round, "We could go dancing like back in England." He drew her back in and tipped her, "Dinner too, above the city on the rooftops."

Elizabeth laughed, "Do they have restaurants on the rooftops?"

"Of course they do!" he bellowed.

"Oh Sam," She caught the gleam in his bright blue eyes. They sparked with life and love and she lost herself, legs weakening, "There's the man I fell in love with."

"I'm always here sweetheart." He leaned in, brushing his nose against hers, "Only you."

"Always." She willingly contracted.

A boom rang out through the house.

The guest had arrived.

* * *

Suited in grey, yet clad in a posh red scarf, Jerry allowed Julia to take his coat. She giggled, feeling the muscles of his arms flex beneath her dainty touch. Sam rolled his eyes. Bill stepped forwards and shook Jerry's hand, "You clean up well enough Mr Dandridge for a construction worker. I always imagined them as being permanently filthy." Bill cackled.

Jerry spared him a low chuckle, "To be fair most of the people I work with certainly do leave something to be desired when it comes to personal hygiene and self-presentation."

"Shall we take this in the kitchen?" Sam suggested.

Julia squealed with joy, "That reminds me. Elizabeth! Is the wine ready?"

"Pretty much," She replied, wandering from the kitchen. Elizabeth was gazing into a glass of white wine, "Which would your guest like though, red or white?"

Petrified as Jerry's voice pierced through her ear drums, Elizabeth gulped. "Red," he said, "Like your lips."

They stared at one another. Bill shuffled Julia into the kitchen, asking for some chicken prior to the sitting. She denied him the right, protectively smacking his hands away from the food.

Jerry reached out and fingered the black dress Elizabeth's form adorned. "You look very fine tonight." He suavely observed.

Elizabeth grasped his hand, prying his fingers from the strap of her dress. "It's only cheap – Primark."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head dubiously, "Love it's not the clothing, it's what is in the clothing." He stepped closer, pulling his hand from her grip and clutching her chin. He tilted her head, forcing her to meet his enthralling eyes, "You look very fine Elizabeth."

"White, like… your skin."

Both of them frowned, turning their heads to look at Sam who timidly stood to the side.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth ventured, as Jerry slowly withdrew his hand from her chin.

"Wine," Sam explained, "The wine."

"Ah," Elizabeth sounded.

Jerry moved over to the kitchen, leaving them in the hallway as an awkward silence began to brew. Sam shrugged, "Admittedly, it sounded far more romantic in my mind."

Elizabeth choked out a laughed, "Oh darling."

* * *

Julia scooped some mash out of a large bowl and plopped it onto Bill's plate. She picked up the chicken afterwards and began to distribute that.

"That's a fantastic scarf you've got hung on the banister Jerry." Bill expressed, "You know, I've seen a couple of people with those lately. Is it a fashion thing?"

Jerry grinned, "I have no idea. I just came upon it one day and have worn it since."

"Sounds like you stole it." Sam grudgingly muttered, lips puckered against the rim of his wine glass.

"Sam, don't be rude." Julia chided.

"Yes, Sam. You wouldn't want me to think badly of yourself and in turn your parents." Jerry smirked, "Would you?"

"You're weird." Sam reproached.

"Sam, stop." Elizabeth gently requested. She placed her hand upon his thigh beneath the table cloth and he sighed.

"Sorry sweetheart." He remorsefully expressed, taking her hand beneath the table and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Of course I could never think badly of you, Elizabeth." Jerry stated, leaning over to her, "No, it is very clear that you are a delicate lady." He drew aside an outgrown side bang. Elizabeth gasped and flinched away, skin quivering as his lips skimmed the tip of her ear.

Sam glowered at Jerry, tugging his fiancé closer to himself. He delivered a few roasted potatoes onto her plate, encouraging her to ignore the company and eat. She did not.

"I would think it were a bit short notice," She blurted, "Just yesterday you were suggesting he come round and now… here he is."

Sam's eyes squinted, his brows furrowing as he stared at Jerry. Julia shrugged, replying, "Well I caught him early this morning before the rest of you got up." She handed a cowl of sprouts to Bill, "I forgot to put the bins out yesterday. Anyway, he just got back from work and offered to help me with them."

"Mrs Grant asked when I'd be available and I told her that I have tonight off, but I'm likely to be busy for at least the next two weeks afterwards." Jerry explained.

Julia smiled at him, passing him some chicken, "Yes, and I knew that would not do. We can't go so long without getting to know our neighbour, so I invited him round for tonight."

He grinned, taking a hefty load of the poultry.

"Here we are." Bill interjected, gravy dripping over his lips and down his chin. It dribbled over his jaw and onto his plate.

Elizabeth's lips curled with disgust. She picked at some carrots.

"What is it that you do then Elizabeth?" Jerry asked, "A woman as intelligent and pretty as you no doubt has fantastic qualifications."

Choking on some turnip and carrots, she coughed out a 'one moment'. Sam patted her back, whispering words of comfort as she struggled to swallow the vegetables.

She wheezed, "I was at university."

Jerry frowned, "You're not anymore?"

Briefly glancing at Sam, she uttered, "No… not anymore."

Sam caught Jerry's gaze and both held strong. They grimly stared, jaws locked and fists clenching. Julia obliviously offered Elizabeth another Yorkshire pudding.

Dinner was grim.

* * *

Elizabeth helped Bill wash the dishes, as Julia, feeling unwell, retreated to bed. Sam happily saw Jerry out, as the evening darkened.

The radio on, the two danced about. Water was strewn across the tiled floor. "Come on Bill, dance with me!" Elizabeth exclaimed, putting the cloth down and dragging him to the centre of the kitchen. As a mid-twentieth century tune began to play, they slowly twirled.

"Look at you," Bill said, eyes drooping and pupils dilated, "You're a princess. You're beautiful – like the daughter I never had, but now soon will. You will go so far!"

The smile faded. The sparkle dimmed and glossy eyes peeked out from behind the stray brown locks. Elizabeth relinquished her hold on him and back away. "I'm tired… going to bed now."

"Of course," Bill slurred, picking up a vacant wine glass and finishing the left over contents.

As she weaved from the kitchen and up the staircase, her pulse thudded in her ears. The cream carpet of the hallway smeared, as tears lingered in the corners of her eyes. "The last time," she whispered, desperately inhaling air, "I was ever told something like that… was over a decade ago." Her knees crumpled and she fell onto the top step of the staircase. Holding her hands to cover her fair, her body trembled. Tears attacked her fingertips. She took a shuddering breath and choked back a yowl. "Oh, Granddad," she quietly hissed, rocking back and forth. Elizabeth's hand twisted among the railing of the banister, tightening. She strangled the wood. A cry escaped her swelling lips.

Sam found her first, as he re-entered the house. He had seen Jerry back home and taken a brisk walk to calm his temper. It was necessary after watching the man attempt to pursue his finance all evening.

He found her crying at the top of the stairs. She could not get to her feet, so he plucked her from the floor and laid her atop their thick quilt. He held her closely. She continued through until the early morning. Sam did not sleep until she gave in to exhaustion. He needed not to ask. Never did Sam ask.

* * *

Someone harshly tugged at her shoulder. Thinking it an emergency, Elizabeth sprang up. Back straight and eyes wide she glanced round the room. It took only a moment for her vision to adjust to the darkness. That was when she noticed.

A darkly clad figure stood by her bedside. A shaky breath escaped her, as she realised that this was what had grabbed her.

A large clawed hand remained poised before her. Elongated fingers with sharp nails were raised towards her face. The shrouded spectre itself seemed petrified for a moment, as the two analysed one another.

Slowly, its talons stretched towards her. Elizabeth drew in a large breath, just as slowly leaning backwards and eventually hitting the pillow that she had slept upon mere second before. The creature stopped, as though comprehending she was in fact awake. She held her breath, watching.

Sam shuffled at her side. He blindly reached out, moaning, "Lizzie-beth."

He tugged on her upper arm. Feeling the tensed muscle, he frowned, opening his eyes. "Lizzie-beth," he murmured dryly, coughing to clear his throat.

Elizabeth licked her lips anxiously, eyes darting from Sam to the thing before them. She dared not physically turn her head away.

The claws withdrew and the beast scrambled out of the window. The blinds flailed, as it monstrously beat them out of the way. Elizabeth stared after it, mouth gaping.

Sam frowned up at her, as his eyes became more accustomed to the dark setting. "Lizzie-beth what's wrong?" he asked, "You're shaking."

A tear falling, she shook her head. He tried to turn her head but she silently refused, eyes fixed upon the open window. "Are you still upset about earlier? Would you like to talk about it?" he cautiously ventured. Soothingly, he rubbed her shoulders, "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Did you not see that – feel it?" She hissed, head swiftly turning. She gazed up at him, teary.

"That thing… it's very presence felt inhuman." She whispered.

"You… had a nightmare." Sam guessed.

Jaw tightening, Elizabeth gnashed her teeth together, "No!" He shushed her, but she struggled out of his arms and ran to shut to the window. "Something was there. It was real Sam!" She exclaimed.

"Lizzie-beth its dark and you were clearly stressed earlier." He reasoned, getting up to hug her, "It was just a nightmare sweetheart."

"You don't believe me." Elizabeth stated with a sullen tone and lidded eyes.

"I didn't see anything Elizabeth." He told her, pulling back to gaze at her vexed visage.

Though angry, she cried out with mournful tears, "It felt so real." Pulling away from his arms, she crawled onto the bed, sternly announcing, "It was real."

Sam heavily sighed, "Whatever, we'll talk about it in the morning Elizabeth." As she attempted to articulate, he held up a hand, silencing her, "I'm too tired. Go to sleep."

Elizabeth was unable to sleep.

As he softly snored, she stared at the blinds. She watched the shadows of critters fly about outside and was certain she heard the yowls of something not so ordinary.

* * *

They did not speak of it until the next evening after Sam had returned from work. Bill had stayed in the city for a drink with some co-workers.

She huffed, forcefully throwing the sheets at him. "I was not hallucinating Sam!" she screamed at him. Sam raised his hands, but the sheet ensnared him regardless of the defence. He fussed with it for a moment.

Tossing the sheet the floor he retorted, "Elizabeth, I didn't see anything." He spoke tenderly, cautiously approaching her and quietly continued, "Perhaps you should get your mobile and call that woman. You remember," he clasped his hands on each of her upper arms, holding her so he could look her in her eyes, "That therapist you were seeing. You didn't finish your time with h-"

Eyes wild, Elizabeth roared. She tore herself away and smacked his arm, "Shut up!" she screeched, "I didn't need to see her anymore – even she said so!" Ripping the case off a pillow, she ranted, "She admitted that only I can improve myself now. It will never leave me, but I need to be strong. I have to fight it and overcome it. That's all I can do now."

Sam took the pillow from her, discarding it on the other side of the bed out of her reach. "She also said that if you needed her you could call. That's why she gave you her card. You told me this yourself."

Fiercely, Elizabeth stood toe to toe with Sam, "I was not seeing her because of hallucinations."

He nodded, attempting to speak but she interrupted.

"For the most part I have overcome my issues Sam. I've made progress, haven't I?" Elizabeth moved round him, picking up the pillow again and hugging it, "I got along with your mum and I've made a friend since I got here too. Me! I made a friend all on my own!"

Sam scowled, staring at her, "Got along with my mom." He parroted, "You've been acting terribly towards her ever since you got here Elizabeth." He took a step towards her, deeply insisting, "She's not like your mother Elizabeth. She's not like that at all."

Elizabeth stepped away, back colliding with the bedroom door. "Shut up!"

"As well as that, what friend have you made?" Sam pried, "You've not spoken to anyone round here as far as I know. Mom said you've barely been out of her sight."

"Jerry." Elizabeth shrugged.

"Jerry." Sam said ludicrously, "Jerry, Jerry, and Jerry. What is with you and him?" He paced backwards and forewords, "He's not your friend Elizabeth."

"Yes, he is." She furiously insisted, dropping the pillow to the carpet and stomping on it, "I met him independently – on my own. We got along fine. He's my friend. I could go and ask and I don't doubt he'd say yes."

Sam snickered, sardonically smiling at her, "Oh Elizabeth. He doesn't think of you in a friendly way. Of that I can assure you."

"What are you talking about?" She asked, hesitantly stepping away from him as he clambered towards her.

Grabbing onto her, Sam leered, "As oblivious as you are to others Elizabeth, I am not. He wants you, but not the way I want you." He dropped to his knees, clasping her hands in his own and declared, "I worship you Elizabeth. I want to be with you always, but he would have you just to ruin and leave you."

He got back to his feet and held her closely despite her nails clawing at his sides, hoping for an escape from him. "Why can't he just leave you alone." His voice cracked and she stopped struggling. Elizabeth looked up, as salty water fell upon her cheek.

"Sam," she tenderly whispered, "Oh Sam." She hugged him in return.

They clung to one another.

"Will you please call the therapist." He warily asked.

He fell onto the bed, as she pushed him. "No. What I saw was real. I know it was! I may be damaged, but I'm not_ that_ insane. You can finish changing the bed yourself." She opened the bedroom door, "Oh, and that mother of yours." Elizabeth turned to savour his expression, "She's a nosy, high standard cow."

He hollered out into the hall, "Elizabeth don't be an idiot. Besides," he stressed, catching her hand as she tried to run down the stairs, "I've seen the way you stare out that window. You stare out of it more times than you look at me in a day. Its no wonder you're imagining things when you spend so much of your time staring out across at Jerry's house." He glared at her, sniggering when her eyes widened with astonishment, "Yeah, that's right sweetheart. I know very well that you've been watching him. I don't like it Elizabeth."

"You're being ridiculous!" She retorted, ripping her hand from his.

"No, you are!" He mocked, "Sam, some beastly creature tried to grab me! Sam you have to believe me!"

Shrieking heatedly, Elizabeth stormed down the staircase. The sound seeped into the foundations of the building.

Julia entered, allowing Jane to pass the threshold of the front door first. "I'm sure they're very excited about it. They've been talking non-stop about how many rooms they'll want an-"

Elizabeth banged into the pair. Each clattered against the walls with a pained yelp.

As she blindly marched across the road and down the path, Elizabeth bumped into a neighbour.

She ignored the young lady, leaving her sprawled on the footpath. The girl obliviously exclaimed, "Hey!" The young lady brushed off her naked knees, complaining under her breath, "Rude much."

Cambering to her feet, quite a success in the tall heels, she headed towards the house.

Jerry readily opened his door, watching Elizabeth tread further away.

The young lady stepped into the shade his house provided from the falling sun. She strode closer still.

Charley stalked the pair from within the confines of his bedroom.

"Hey, Doris," Jerry cordially greeted, "Would you like a drink?"

As she entered, Jerry threw Charlie a roguish smirk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Forever Indeed**

A large cloud rose. She breathed in deeply, leaning back. Her hands held tight to the chains, as her body laid across the seat. Her legs high in the air, she titled her head back and released the breath. Another cloud emerged. Elizabeth erratically shivered. Goose-bumps swarmed her pale arms. Sucking in more air, she closed her eyes. The blood rushed to her head, as she leaned further and her long locks stroked the grubby ground as the swing began to teeter.

"Deserts shouldn't be cold." She whispered breathlessly. Another mist that developed in the air, as she exhaled, faded into the abyss above. Elizabeth pulled herself up, eyes closed. She leaned her head against the chain. She shook her head with a frown.

A light violated her eyelids.

Opening her eyes, she spotted a car. The driver settled in front of the park gate. The door opened, a beep persistently penetrating her ears. She turned her head to the side, releasing a pained moan. The headlights were left on, blinding her. Elizabeth could not identify the intruder.

"Hey," a roguish voice greeted.

Elizabeth cried out as an object hurtled towards her. Blindly throwing her hands up, the thing ricocheted off her wrist. She reached out hastily, attempting to grasp it.

The apple dropped into her lap.

"I saw you leaving earlier," Jerry said, "Thought you might need a friend."

He smiled down at her, as she stared at the apple. Raising it to her lips, she looked up into his dark eyes. As he gazed, she unashamedly bit into the fruit. He nodded, grin broadening, "There's the bite that accommodates that large smile."

"You've been watching me." Elizabeth stated. One of her eyebrows rose mordantly, as she stared at him.

He playfully retorted, "You've been watching me."

A small smile weaved her pink lips together. He took the second swing, looking at her. "What is it?" he asked.

"I didn't even think." She admitted. When she caught sight of his puzzled expression she explained, "When Sam asked me to marry him."

"Ah," Jerry sighed, "You're having second thoughts."

She frowned, gazing at the gate. The headlights of his car illuminated the metal and a barred shadow stretched out over the grass. "It's not that – well maybe." Elizabeth groaned, brushing a hand through her hair. The chains of the swing protested, as she kicked off the earth and began to sway. She anxiously licked her lips, "I suppose I never realised how much weight there is in 'yes'."

Jerry swung too. Slowly and gently they both swayed, though not together. As she moved forwards, he moved back and so on.

"Why were you so eager?" he queried, visage inexpressive.

Her eyes squinted, as she thought, "I think, like you suggested… I think I just wanted to be with someone 'safe'. Sam has always been 'safe'. Maybe that's why I liked him in the first place."

His shoes dug into the dirt. He abruptly stood, holding a hand out to her. "Come on," he commanded, "I'll take you back."

After a few moments Elizabeth took his hand and he led her towards his car.

* * *

She snuck a glance at him as he parked the car. They got out of the car, Elizabeth's eyes wandering round his garage. She uneasily ventured, "I noticed a woman heading over to your place earlier. Are you seeing her?"

Laughing, Jerry replied, "No, I invited her and Charley round. Others too, but only they were free I guess." He locked the car and walked her out of the garage, pulling the door down. Elizabeth silently watched, as the muscles of his arms flexed against the weight of the garage door.

"You should have come," he said, catching her staring. Her cheeks slightly reddened, as he grinned, "You still can."

Glancing across the road, Elizabeth suggested, "I don't think Sam would approve."

Jerry's brows furrowed and his fists clenched together. He gulped, eyes darkening as he gazed at her uneasy figure. "Why's that?" He gruffly asked, "It's not like I'm a monster or anything."

Elizabeth laughed, swiftly looking up into his blackening eyes. Her eyes glazed over and she hauled in a shaky breath, moving closer to him. A hand upon his chest, she gripped his shirt and pulled herself up. She timorously kissed him.

Petrified, Jerry did not reply in kind.

As his mind returned, he pulled back. Gently pushing against her shoulders, he escaped her embrace. He pried her hand from his shirt, as she avoided his gaze.

She mumbled, stepping away, "Here I thought that's what you wanted."

Dispassionately, he replied, "I don't want your kisses."

He turned away from her, entering his house.

Elizabeth hesitantly tiptoed after him for a moment, but stopped when he shut the door without a glance. She gulped, hands shaking. Tears moistened her tired eyes. As the first rays of sunlight fell upon her, she dashed away from Jerry's home and into the Grant's.

She hurried up the staircase, ignoring Sam's impatient holler.

Breaking through the door, Elizabeth flung herself upon the made bed. She pressed her face into the quilt, crying. Looking up, as the need to breath overpowered her mood, she stared out the window. The day brightened and she groaned as the ever persistent desert sunshine bombarded her fatigued eyes. Elizabeth sat up and brushed at them, crushing her lashes against the top of her cheeks. When she stopped, she caught sight of Sam outside.

He wandered over to Charley who knelt on Jerry's lawn. He was crying too, his arms outstretched and mouth gaping.

Elizabeth glared. She stomped onto her feet and viciously pulled the tether to close the blinds. Hidden from the raw sunlight, she tore the quilt off the bed and burrowed into it. She slept.

* * *

Sam cautiously approached Charley. "Hey, are you okay?" He doubtfully asked.

Charley's head swiftly turned, his eyes focusing upon Sam, "Uh." He dragged out.

Nodding and smacking his lips together indecisively, Sam avoided the issue, "Is your mother in? I was hoping Lizzie-beth and I could reschedule with her."

Stuttering, Charley gasped out, "She's already gone to work."

Sam sighed, "Alright," He held out a hand, helping Charley to his feet, "I guess I'll pop by her office then."

As he wandered back across the street and towards his father's car, Charley screamingly sobbed out, "You should keep Elizabeth far away from Jerry!" Halting, Sam turned to stare at Charley. His eyebrows rose dubiously, as he stepped back towards the raving teen. "Whatever you do, don't invite him in." Charley continued.

Sam guffawed, saying "The sod has already been in," he patted Charley's shoulder, moving back over the road and pulling the car keys from his jacket pocket, "He made moves on Lizzie-beth all evening too. You want to be careful of leaving your girlfriend in his company Charley." He called back.

A terrified expression pasted over his face, Charley scrambled to his house.

Sam shook his head, muttering "Weird kid." As he unlocked the car door, his eyes wandered away from Charley's front door and to Jerry's house.

Scowling, Sam got into the car and headed towards the city to Jane's workplace.

* * *

The sun no longer glared through the blinds.

Sam slept soundly beside her, as she woke. Creeping out of the bed, Elizabeth pulled off the clothes she had worn the night before and adorned a fresh pair of jeans and dark green jumper. She quickly brushed her hair and quietly swished some mouth wash in the dark en-suite before escaping into the gloomy hallway.

Donning a black coat as she left, Elizabeth stole a pair of house keys and locked the front door behind her. She turned and trailed along the path and down the road. However, as she crossed to the other side, she was captured in the towering form of Jerry's house.

Elizabeth stared up at the upper floor windows, wondering which could be of his bedroom. Pondering if he were asleep or at work, deliberating the chances of him thinking of her, as she was him. Elizabeth gulped, furiously shaking her head. Crossing her arms against the bitter wind, she mentally damned herself to an eternity of perdition and continued down the street.

* * *

"A star shimmering in the moonlight, such a sight it is." A voice pronounced, "Stars are forever though, you're not are you… not yet."

"Aren't you going to push me?" She boldly asked.

"Now why would I do that?" He retorted, taking the swing next to her.

Lips pouting a little, Elizabeth sulkily replied, "You usually do."

Smiling, Jerry reached out and nudged her back. She swung just a tad bit.

"Well if you're not going to put the effort in, just forget it." She sullenly retorted. He grinned, getting to his feet and padding behind her shivering form.

A short squeal escaped her, as he forced her forwards.

"Sorry, was that too much?" he asked, laughing.

"A little," she replied, staring at the stars.

Gnawing on her lip, she blurted, "I'm sorry." When he didn't ask, she explained, "About that kiss… I shouldn't have done that. It must have made you feel so uncomfortable and I didn't mean for that at all."

"You haven't apologised to Sam."

"Oh, well… I don't think tha-"

"You're not going to marry him then? You're going to break it off?"

"I think so," she confirmed, nodding. "I rushed into this and it's clear, despite our feelings, that we're not really compatible."

"Plus, you've been thinking of nothing but me since you got here." He replied with cheeky grin.

"That's not true!" Elizabeth insisted.

"You've been watching me." Jerry mirthfully stated.

"You've been watching me!" She indignantly retorted.

"I have."

"What?"

"Take a bite." He orders, holding the apple out to her.

"What is with you and apples?"

"They make me look normal."

She laughs, "Normal, what isn't normal about you?"

"There you go, see. They make me look normal."

"Okay, what isn't normal then?"

"I could show you if you'd like."

"This isn't some strange thing, is it? I saw the look on Charley's face this morning. What did you do to him and Doris… actually I don't think I ever saw Doris leave."

"She did. She didn't want to miss the sun, getting a tan and all that."

"Ah."

As a silence fell over them, Jerry retook his seat upon the swing. He swung a leg over one side and sat facing Elizabeth. He stared at her, as she softly swung herself back and forth and avoided his gaze. He grabbed the chain in front of him that divided his view of her, slouching forwards to rest his left cheek against the cool metal.

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, licking her lips, "What about Charley? He looks at you like you've killed his puppy or something."

Averting his eyes towards the gate of the park, Jerry stated, "You're still wearing your ring."

"Oh, I'll probably return it when I… I don't know if I can go back there." Elizabeth's grasp upon the chains tightened, her thighs tensing. She gulped, "Of course I'll have to – if only to get my stuff and explain everything." Releasing a whispery gasp, she breathlessly whined, "He's going to hate me so much."

Jerry looked back to her, watching as a stray tear broke through her dark lashes and hurdled down her pale cheek.

He sniffed, chuckling a little before speaking, "You could stay with me tonight."

Elizabeth's eyes widened, brows drawing closely together as she hastily turned to stare at him quite incredulously.

Clearing his throat, Jerry elaborated, "You could stay tonight. I could go over with you or I could go over just by myself tomorrow evening and get your stuff for you." He shook his head, eyes squinting as he got up from the swing and moved round to kneel before her. Elizabeth's minor swings back and forth halted, as he came closer. "I've actually grown quite fond of you Elizabeth." He reached out and clasped a hand upon her kneecap. His thump leniently stroked her jeans. "I don't want you to have to go through that sort of confrontation when you're so… emotional." Jerry leaned in, Elizabeth's breath catching as he rested his chin on top of his hand that sat atop her kneecap. "This is clearly difficult for you and you're not just going to have to face him, but his mother and father too."

Elizabeth stammered, "I couldn't."

Jerry gently demanded, "Stay with me."

"Err, thank you I suppose." Elizabeth faltered, as his chin rose from his hand and said hand slowly careened up her thigh.

"Stay." He repeated whilst squeezing her thigh, as she uncertainly bit her lip.

Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip. "Yes." Elizabeth quietly declared, relinquishing her purpling lip.

Jerry broadly grinned.

Elizabeth's eyes squinted for a moment, but she shook her head and clambered to her feet. He stood up and backed away, as she pulled herself up.

"Shall we then?" She queried, "I'm feeling quite tired… and cold."

Nodding, Jerry brought a hand to her back, escorting her towards the gate.

"There's no need to be so skittish Elizabeth," Jerry insisted, "After all, forever isn't really all that long."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, frowning and twisting her head to look up at him.

Stopping, Elizabeth raised a hand to his cheek. Fumbling over her words, as the street lamplight illuminated their forms in the darkness, she mumbled, "You've got red on you."

His grin enlarged again and she stumbled back. His grip on her back solidified, pulling her closer.

"Forever, we'll be together forever, right?"

"I told Sam forever too."

"Forget him. He's not important – just another human. Stay with me forever, say you will."

"I-"

"I'm not after a fling Elizabeth. If you stay with me then it's because we're serious about one another. Will you forever stay?"

"You're teeth... they're."

"Yes," he confessed, stretching his lips further as she peered at his glistening fangs.

"You have red on you." She repeated, as her eyes drifting down his shirt as the blotches became more apparent beneath the dim street lights.

"I got peckish on the way over here." He dragged his tongue over his teeth, slicing it upon a fang, "Saw a lovely little flower walking home."

Elizabeth retracted her hand from his cheek and attempted to step away from him. He shrouded her, his arms embracing her to him. "She was very tasty, but," he watched her gulped, staring at her neck, "It did nothing to quench my lust for you."

"You… ate someone." Elizabeth stated, scrambling in his arms.

Chuckling, Jerry cooed. "Oh, Elizabeth, she was good, but not you. No!" A short scream escaped her, as his nails burrowed into the skin of her arms, "That girl was a neglected virgin, but you – you are so much more broken!"

Elizabeth tugged her arms away, managing only to smear the blood and widen the wounds. Jerry drew in a large unnecessary breath, expressing, "You are so shattered by this world. It's truly enthralling." He closed his eyes, savouring the scent, "Perfect."

A whimper lashed out from Elizabeth's mouth, as his blackened eyes latched onto her figure. She cried out, "I want Sam!"

Lips twitching and brows twisting dejectedly, Jerry sneered, "Sam doesn't want you."

Her eyes watered. He leaned towards her, soothingly cooing and tenderly brushing his nose against her own.

"You're going to eat me." Elizabeth uttered, as tears gushed from her eyes.

He dragged his tongue up her cheek, lapping up a few of the tears. Kissing her cheek, he pecked her nose affectionately as she drew in an unsteady breath. Her lungs shook.

"No."

Her lids fluttered, as her eyesight clouded. Elizabeth's hearing faded for a moment, but returned well enough to hear him articulate through a thudding ringing, "I'm going to bring you to life." His gruff voice, slaughtered the muffled beat that churned in her ears.

Elizabeth blinked away the stars clouding her vision, spluttering, "My hearts already beating."

He pulled her closer, clutching her hips and relishing the quiver of her body.

"I'm not talking about a human life – they're so mundane." He hauled in a rapid breath, inhaling the aroma that surrounded him. Her sea-salt smelling hair and the blood that hardened against their skins eroded his stability. He purred, "You're heart will stop, but you'll go on; I promise."

Her hips tingled as his thump stroked the bones. Shaky breaths escaped her drying lips. Slowly placing her hand upon his stomach, Elizabeth heaved it upwards. Jerry groaned, as her eyes locked upon his own. Her hand tugged his shirt up and the cool night air prickled his skin.

Elizabeth's breaths ceased. Mouth opening, her eyes snapped to her hand. "You feel like death." She said, licking her lips as the pulses running through the veins of her hand were left un-echoed in his chest. "You have no heart." She whispered. Her watery brown eyes rose to his lips and she stared at the sharp canines. "You are a vampire."

Chortling, Jerry raised his hand to her head and entangled his sharp elongated fingers through her long brown locks. He complacently admitted, "Yes."

Her legs failed her and she almost collapsed to the dewy grass below. However, he hauled her to his chest, keeping her standing in spite of the lack of control that she sorely wished would surge through her lower limbs.

"I want Sam." Elizabeth wailed, beating her fists against him.

Jerry momentarily pulled away to release an exasperated sigh. "Love, you can have him for dinner tomorrow night if you'd like. Hell," he grinned, "We'll invite the whole family over."

Another howl protruded from her pink lips.

He nuzzled her jaw, sniffing a lingering perfume upon her skin. Elizabeth shuddered, as his tongue raked across her skin.

Flinching, her head pulled away and he growled.

Their noses brushed again, as they stared into one another's eyes.

Visage vacant, Elizabeth brazenly stated, "I hate you."

Impishly smiling, a sharp laugh escaped him. Jerry shook his head, unbelieving. He replied, "No you don't love." He swiftly kissed her snarling lips, "You're enamoured by me."

As he titled her head back, Elizabeth stared at the stars. The wind blew about them. Jerry's cold hands clasped at her. One pulled at her lower back, smacking their hips together and the other knotted her hair. Petrified as she felt his breath smother her neck, Elizabeth's eyes speedily shut. His teeth scraped at her neck, tongue seeking for the throb of a rich vein. Tears penetrated her closed lids and dampened her hair, as he inclined her head further back.

She could not scream. Jerry's fangs dug deeply and she choked on the blood that vented inside her throat. Coughing, she gasped for air. His grip tightened. Cherishing her trembling form, Jerry's chest rumbled with an internal moan. He guzzled her blood, lapping up the drops escaping her reddened lips.

The searing pain in her neck faded, as a rush of adrenaline sprinted round her body. Elizabeth's breath accelerated, as air began to break through the blood that clogged her windpipe. Jerry bit back into her neck and rejoiced in the hastened pulsating veins.

After a few more minutes, her breath slowed. Gradually, her lungs hauled in a difficult breath. Her chest began to hurt tremendously. Jerry continued to lug her blood. Elizabeth's lids opened a little and she gazed at the sky. The stars glimmered and her eyes glazed. Jerry released a snort, tearing his decorated lips from her neck. He stared at her face, hand pressed against her breast, as he waited.

She attempted to draw in another breath, but the oxygen did not satisfy her lungs. Darkness grew and new stars gleamed before her eyes, as the icy breeze about them muffled. Lazily, Elizabeth closed her eyes. Head dazed and dizzy, she lolled. Jerry rested her head against his shoulder, kneeling with her. He kissed her hair, stroking her cheek as she desperately wheezed for a satisfying bout of oxygen. It did not come. Finally, she slumbered.

As he lifted her into his arms and wandered from the park, her heart stopped.


	6. Chapter 6

**Forever Indeed**

A scraping sound woke her.

Eyes opening, Elizabeth found herself gazing up at a ceiling. The white paint illuminated the room, peculiarly bathing the dark space. Colours flickered, swiftly swaying across the ceiling. A soft sigh escaped her, eyes lazily closing.

That noise.

Lightly frowning, she opened her eyes and stared again. The sound lugged on wood above her. Turning her head, Elizabeth watched the images whirl on a large television. Her heavy arms shifted and her hands firmly gripped the leather arms of the chair she was sprawled out upon. Her hung legs tensed, feet kicking slightly, as she shuffled her bottom. The leather complained. Elizabeth sniffed, a strangled yell escaping her. Uncomfortably, she scratched at the leather arms. Something scratched at the wood on the upper floor as she did so.

A muffled grunting followed.

Dark brows fiercely drawing together, Elizabeth rubbed at her eyes. She looked back at the television, the crashing vehicles burning. She scouted the room for a remote, discovering it atop a tall stout table nearby the chair. Elizabeth swooped over the arm of the chair and snatched the remote from the polished wood. Muting the television, a scuffling thump became more apparent.

Flamboyant tapping strode into her ears and Elizabeth violently shivered. Rapidly, she turned her head and scrutinized him. He rigorously marched down the staircase. Jerry grinned upon finding her awake and suavely wiped at his mouth. Gulping, Elizabeth attempted to escape the smothering chair. The leather shrieked, as she unsteadily rose to her feet.

"You'll enjoy it." He said.

Blinking, Elizabeth's eyes followed his rapacious form. She sniffed again, timidly fumbling away from the chair as he crept closer. Her feet halted.

Jerry's grin broadened. He held out a hand, carefully watching her.

Elizabeth's lashes languidly fluttered. A vibrant scent protruded her senses. It seemed ingrained within his skin. She tasted a thick coating of iron paste along her tongue from the air and licked her teeth, parched. Jerry chanced another step further, reaching out for her.

"It'll be amazing. _We_ will be brilliant together." His hand brushed her right wrist, stroking her arm as he glided it up towards her shoulder. He softly continued, "You have so much potential."

Elizabeth aggressively shook her head, hair flailing. She grimaced, as she inhaled the metallic fragrance. Elizabeth abruptly grabbed his hand. She pulled him to her. He laughed aloud, as her nose journeyed up and along his outstretched arm. Huffing as the shouldered sleeve of his shirt immobilised her expedition, Elizabeth gripped the cotton material and tugged.

Jerry pushed her back, liberating himself of her clutches. He ran his other hand down her cheek. She leaned into his palm, heavily inhaling. Eyes darkening, Elizabeth licked the tips of his fingers. He gruffly laughed.

"Such lust," he murmured, watching her teeth paw at his freshly filled veins, "You've only just awoken and you're already trying to feed."

He pulled away. She whined, reaching out for him. Batting her hands away, he gloated, "You can't consume blood I've already had love, you need something fresh."

Eyes fiercely closing, Elizabeth quietly wailed, "What's happened to me?"

Jerry sighed, "Perhaps I should feed you now."

She opened her eyes, intoxicated, gazing at him, "You smell so… good." Stepping forwards, she stuttered, "I want you."

"I know," Jerry replied, hands holding her in place as she attempted to get closer still. He pressed down on her shoulders and she winced. He sympathised, "You're hungry. I just ate and you can tell by your amplified senses. I'm inadvertently teasing you." He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms round her, "Dinner is upstairs, but you can't have it yet."

Grumbling, she tried to escape his hug. She clawed at his chest and arms, but Jerry merely tightened his grip. He smelt her hair, sighing as he found the sea-salted scent persisted upon her person. "Dinner can't take another just yet. You'll have to wait." He pulled away, holding her at arm's length, seemingly apologetic, "I should have thought of you."

Blackened eyes squinting, Jerry continued, "Young ones don't tend to be so obstinate when first acquainted with their new selves." He stepped away and prowled round her, "You seem quite accommodating Elizabeth; for someone who caused a fuss." He faced her, observing her, "Even that kid wasn't so starved and he was a completely despondent." A sneer sprawled across his handsome visage, "You're a natural, as I suspected."

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, trailing a hand down her spine, "Oh, love, look at you. You're perfect. You'll go so very far."

Shuddering, Elizabeth leaned back into his grasp. Her nose brushed along his jawbone, her lips parting to drag her tongue alongside as well. A guttural groan escaped him and she sighed, as the vibration travelled from his throat to her own. She gulped, harshly mustering, "What have you done to me?"

Gruffly laughing, Jerry pushed her back from himself, "I've brought you to life love, just as I promised."

"Vampire." She whispered, eyes slowly opening. She could not recall closing them. Nor could she recall clinging to his shirt despite his prior shove.

Frowning, Elizabeth spoke more loudly, "Vampire."

Looking round at the room, a brief laugh escaped her. "This place is awful," she said, "It doesn't look like a proper home."

"Home… family," Jerry droned, as he moved towards the kitchen, "You want for so much love." He opened the fridge and, eyes narrowing as the light offended his eyes, he pulled out a bottle of beer. "You should stop longing for those things. I'm all you're ever going to have now."

Elizabeth rushed into the kitchen and stared at him. "You're a monster," she exclaimed, "You've made me one too!"

"Right," Jerry muttered, placing his beer on the kitchen counter, "Well I'm going to put our dinner away. Shouldn't expire for a few more days, so we can have it for a few more days then I'll have to pop out." As he began to trek up the staircase, he twisted to look at her. She exasperatedly stared up at him.

Chuckling, he said, "Don't be so grumpy love, you'll get used to it. You _will_ enjoy it." His fangs glistened in the dim flicking lights from the television, as he broadly grinned at her.

He went upstairs.

"I still hate you," Elizabeth quietly muttered, "I _always_ will."

She tottered back into the living-room and stood by the chair. Elizabeth sullenly watched the television with a slouched posture and crossed arms.

A light blared through cracks in a blackened window. She cringed and backed away under the staircase. Looking through the gap between the steps, Elizabeth eyed the window. The light had since passed, but she remained still, listening. An engine turned off.

Realising it to be a car, she raced to the door. She stood on the tips of her toes. Staring out of the peep hole, Elizabeth watched as a young couple with a child unpacked a car and settled into a house opposite. She counted the doors. The family lived three doors down from Sam's parents.

"Sam," Elizabeth pined, "I _want_ Sam."

Hands reaching for the front door handle, she hesitantly glanced back at the staircase. Not seeing Jerry's imposing figure lumbering down in a fit of rage, Elizabeth opened the door.

She hastily crossed the threshold. Elizabeth raced down the footpath. Crossing the road, she looked back and mentally thanked God for Jerry's necessity to blacken his windows. He could not see her. She could not see him. Slowing, as she approached the Grants' garden, Elizabeth looked up towards the guest bedroom. She did not doubt Sam would still be sleeping.

Softly biting her bottom lip, Elizabeth shoved her hand into her jacket pocket and discovered the spare key she had previously pilfered. Her eyes closed and she sighed with great relief, "I was changed by an idiot, thank God."

Laughing slightly, she unlocked the front door and stepped in.

* * *

Having crept up the staircase, Elizabeth turned the knob of the guest bedroom. She imagined her heart fluttering, violently beating her rib cage, and held a hand to her breast. Taking a deep excessive breath, she tiptoed into the room and allowed the door to lightly sway shut with a quiet 'click'.

Staring, Elizabeth's eyes lumbered dizzily over Sam's slumbering figure. He was curled up in the quilt, hugging her pillow.

"Sam," she tenderly whispered.

Her voiced cracked, "I want you." Her nose twitched, lips clumsily stumbling round the words. Hauling in another unnecessary breath, Elizabeth climbed onto the bed.

"Sam," she quietly wailed, "Sam I need you. Please," Rubbing violently at her unmoved eyes, Elizabeth clasped his arm. She pulled him from her pillow and his eyes snapped open. He blindly threw out a hand. Catching it and pushing him down, Elizabeth smiled. Sam's bright eyes wildly stared into her own dim pair.

"Lizzie-beth," he mumbled with wide eyes, "Why are you dressed?"

"I want you," she said, pulling her hand from his arm and tightly clasping his hand in her own.

Frowning, Sam lifted his other hand. His fingers slowly stroked her cheek. She bit her bottom lip, eyes losing as she leaned down to him.

"You're bleeding." He told her.

A crinkle appeared between her brows, as they drew downwards into a scowl. Sam brushed his fingers against her bottom lip, whispering, "I didn't think you could bite your lips that hard Lizzie-beth. Are you alright? What's happened?"

"Nothing," she insisted, raking her nails up his chest.

A raspy moan escaped her. "Sam," Elizabeth gulped, "Your heart."

Pushing her to sit upright, Sam drew her eyes from his chest and averted them to look into his own. "Lizzie-beth, what happened?" he firmly asserted.

"I want you." Elizabeth disregarded, "I want you forever."

Hearing her tone heighten, Sam nipped his lip with worry, "You have me forever Lizzie-beth." He clutched her to him and laid back. She rested contently upon his chest, stroking his skin and listening intently to the rush of his blood. "I'm sorry about that fight – I shouldn't have pushed you." He entangled his fingers into her hair, as his other hand soothingly pawed at her hip, "You know, just because we had a fight doesn't mean we're splitting." He kissed her head, immersing himself in the sea-salt scent of her locks as he stressed, "We will be together forever sweetheart. We'll work at it and it will work no matter what."

"No matter what," she whispered lightly, her breath tickling his chest.

Elizabeth turned her head a little, pecking his chest. Gulping and licking her lips, she felt the resilient pulse beneath her fingertips. She smelt the beats beneath his ribcage. "I want you." Elizabeth steadfastly stated.

Sam chuckled, "Aren't you tired. You certainly look it sweetheart."

Lifting her head, Elizabeth caught his lazy gaze and starkly stared. "I want you."

Sam grimaced as her eyes seemed to darken. Her nails scraped into his skin and blood seeped from his side. "Lizzie-beth," He hastily exclaimed. Choking, Sam grabbed her hand and tried to pry it from his side.

Snarling at him, her teeth blazed. Sam shuddered.

"Elizabeth!"

They both paused, panting.

Elizabeth sat up. Her hair was muddled. Unhearing, Sam asked, "What is it?"

Hoarsely, she stammered, "Jerry."

Sam scowled. "Jerry!" He exclaimed.

They began to hear Sam's parents shuffle about in their own bedroom down the hall.

After a few moments of held, uncomfortable, silence they seemed to quieten once more.

Sam continued his tirade, though more quietly, "Jerry, seriously. Elizabeth.

As she snatched her shirt from the carpet, Elizabeth ignored Sam and sneakily slipped aside one of the strips of the blinds. She peeked out. Across the street stood a shadowed form, the porch light of his home unknowing of his presence.

Cursing, Elizabeth stepped away from the window. Jerry was out there.

She hesitantly snuck another peek.

He remained there and she knew he was not gazing at the stars.

There were none.

A storm was brewing.

* * *

Hastily dragging on a shirt, Sam prowled after her.

Elizabeth ran from their room, down the stairs and out the door. As Jerry came into view, her pace slowed to a stuttering patter. She stopped a few feet away, standing in the road.

They blinked at one another. Sam called out from inside the home. He tumbled down the last four steps.

"Come along love," Jerry firmly ordered, "We need to talk."

He turned away from her, walking back into his house. Elizabeth anxiously gulped, watching as his fists clenched and unclenched whilst he strode. Looking back, as Sam slipped on some shoes and ambled from the home with a stark shout, Elizabeth followed after Jerry.

"Elizabeth!" Sam hissed with a rising volume.

Her eyes tightly closed, as she walked. His voice screeched into her sensitive ears. A shaky breath escaped her, as she beat back the urge to run to him. Stronger still, was the desire to have him – consume him.

The door slammed behind her.

* * *

"Sam," Charley hoarsely stammered. He did not bother switching his light on, putting on a shirt, pants or even socks, as he hurriedly left his room.

"Sam!" He called out, speedily unlocking the front door and sprinting out to meet the breathless man. Sam desperately banged against Jerry's front door, making various loud demands.

Charley grabbed Sam's arms and forced him away, trying to make sense of the panicked cries that erupted from Sam's mouth.

"Sam!" Charley exclaimed, struggling to get Sam into his back garden. He shoved the man against the wall of his house and slapped him, calling, "Sam, get a-hold of yourself!"

"He took her!" Sam wailed, ignoring the sharp complaints coming from waken neighbours round the front of the house. "He took her Charley. I don't know how, but he did." Tears escaped him and streamed down the wrinkled shirt.

"Right," Charley mumbled, looking towards Jerry's house, "All right." He tugged on Sam's arm, dragging him along, "I'm seeing something tomorrow – someone who can help." He turned to Sam, stopping so he could look him in the eye, "You're coming with me."

* * *

Jerry aggressively bit into the green apple. He stood in the kitchen, turned away from her shaking figure. The juice careened over his bottom lip and dribbled down his chin.

Stepping away from the front door, Elizabeth carefully strode towards him.

"You are so hungry Elizabeth," Jerry began. She stopped, watching him. He would not look at her. He continued, taking another bite of the apple, "If I had not called; if I had not noticed… you would have torn him apart."

Finally, he turned to gaze at her, stressing, "What you felt then, for him, was not love Elizabeth." He trod forward. She stepped back, finding herself against the wall nearby the front door. Jerry muttered, "It was bloodlust."

Slowly shaking her head, indignantly pouting, Elizabeth stammered, "I love Sam."

"You know nothing!" Jerry hollered.

It whizzed by her head. She gasped. The apple smashed against the wall. Elizabeth gave a startled shriek.

"You think you could love him still, but that is not so." He continued more calmly, "Wishing to change him, ha." He plucked another apple from a bowl of a batch, "You cannot."

"What?"

"I am a vampire Elizabeth. You are different from me." Jerry laughed, grinning as her nose crinkled up with confusion. "Elizabeth!" he stridently sang, "You are not I – not originally a vampire. You were made, not born. You do not have the power to change others."

As he stalked towards her, Elizabeth's palms thudded against the wall behind her. She attempted to firmly pronounce, "I want Sam."

"I know," Jerry smirked, "You will have him and I'm sure his blood with satisfy you greatly love, but righ-."

"No," She insisted, pulling her palms from the wall and holding them out between them to try and prohibit him from touching her, "I want to be with Sam… not you."

"You are pushing me love." He lowly hissed.

"I'm sorry!" She cried out, cowering as he stepped closer and her hands came to rest on his chest. He fingers curled up. Elizabeth's entire being quivered.

Holding his hand up to her, he demanded, "Hand it over Elizabeth." As she wavered, he jeered, "You have no need for it now love."

"I am not your love, love." She retorted, pulling the engagement ring from her finger and sombrely handing it to him.

Elizabeth mumbled, "You're going to kill Sam."

Lightly kissing her cheek, Jerry ominously replied, "We'll see him soon."


	7. Chapter 7

**Forever Indeed**

Towering clean clothes collapsed, as Charley rushed into the kitchen. He harried Sam along who mumbled and clumsily attempted to salvage a pair of teal knickers from the counter fall.

"I've been watching him for a while." Charley exclaimed, waving about his arms for emphasis. He voice boomed, "My old mate told me and I didn't believe him – Ed. I've not seen him since!" He grabbed a knob and opened a cupboard only to growl with frustration, viciously closing the wooden door. Sam flinched, hands clasping at his ears. He released a squawk of embarrassment as the knickers scraped across his left cheek.

Charley turned to stare at Sam, an eyebrow rising as he mumbled with an uncomfortable tone, "Those are my mothers."

Sam threw them away, timidly smiling. The grin crumbled. He moaned, "What am I going to do?"

"Sit down. Help yourself to something to drink. I've put the kettle on and there's coffee and tea in that cupboard there." He pointed to the cupboard nearby that which he had opened previously.

Sam, already having sat at the counter table, shrugged. Charley stormed into the hall, his feet loudly thudding on the staircase as he ran upstairs.

Grumbling, Sam stared at the cupboard, then the kettle. He turned round on the stool slightly and caught sight of a biscuit tin and a bowl of fruit. Sighing, Sam reached for the tin.

Stopping, he thought for a moment. He reached instead for the bowl, dragging it across the counter. The tops squealed, the white paint of the bowl chipping. Sam took a large apple from the assortment.

"I found it!" Charley's voice rumbled. He raced into the room, clasping a large purple folder, "I printed them out yesterday." Dropping the folder onto the counter in front of Sam, Charley snatched an orange from the bowl before pushing it back in place.

"I've been doing research for a couple of days now, but there's no way to tell if the internet is spewing rubbish or actual useful information." Tearing at the skin of the orange, glaring at the blazing colour, Charley continued, "I found some guy. He has a show and seems to know about these sorts of things."

Sam frowned, biting his lips. He raised the apple to his mouth, staring as Charley peeled the orange. "Mr Vincent is only in Vegas for a couple more weeks and his website says he's doing shows every evening, so he's busy a lot. I reckon though, that we can sneak in." He bit into a segment of orange, juice dribbling, "Well, I can probably sneak in while you distract security… or something." Charley loosely confessed when Sam's face expressed great doubt, "Okay! I haven't exactly planned it all out, but it's not like I can make an appointment."

"Charley," Sam strongly interjected, "I have no idea what you're talking about." He settled the apple onto the counter, "My fiancé just leapt into the arms of another man and you're talking about seeing some celebrity in the city – you're out of your mind!"

"What?"

Sam stood, heading through the living-room area towards the front door.

Charley hurried after him, grabbing the folder, "No – Sam. I swear this is important!"

"You're insane Charley." Sam retorted.

"No I'm not. This is life and death." He jumped onto the couch, dashing over the back of it and coming to a stop in front of Sam, emphasising, "Un-death!"

Sighing, as Charley held his hands out to stop him from leaving, Sam daringly asked, "What does this Vincent person have to do with this? What could he possibly do to help?"

Biting his bottom lip anxiously, Charley ventured, "You don't know, do you? It hasn't sunk in yet… or maybe you're just really ignorant."

Voice bellowing throughout the house, Sam barked, "I didn't come here to be insulted!"

"No." Charley stridently replied, "You came to get help for Elizabeth. Help can be gotten too, but you have to work with me. We have to see Mr Vincent."

They glowered at one another for a moment, a tense atmosphere brewing between them.

"Ugh, fine!" Sam shouted, forlornly crumbling onto the sofa. His hands rubbed at his eyes, a guttural stutter escaping his throat. "What has he done to her? You know Charley. You haven't said it, but you know."

Tightly grasping Sam's shoulder, Charley attempted to apply some comfort as he sullenly admitted, "I know."

Sam struck out.

Charley released a pained cry, trying to pull his arm back. The constrictive grasp Sam had upon Charley's arm caused a quiver to strike through. Tingles sprang up where Sam's nails bit into his skin and Charley moaned. "Sam," he gasped out, "I know you're angry that I haven't told you, but I will. I'll tell you right now – once you've calmed down a little! I'll tell you everything. No lies, no holding anything back… I tell you everything I know."

Gazing at the brooding figure, Charley drew in a deep breath.

Sam agreed.

Charley moved round to sit with Sam.

Pausing, he stepped away from that couch and moved round the coffee table to sit elsewhere.

Sam stared at the carpet, unmoved.

Licking his lips and hands shaking, Charley uncomfortably cleared his throat.

He loudly stated, "Jerry is a vampire."

Laughing, Sam looked up at the young lad sitting opposite him. The table obstructed any chance of him hastily reaching out to strangle the impudent child.

"This isn't the time to mess me around Charley."

"I'm not – I sweat it. He's a vampire." Charley jumped to his feet, insisting, "He's been eating people left and right since he got here. He even ate Doris!"

"Doris, who – oh… the neighbour."

Quieting down, Sam considered Charley's declaration.

They sat silently, the insistent tick of a clock resonating throughout the open-plan space.

"I read Dracula once." Sam admitted, "When I was younger. It was necessary for an English Literature exam." He scratched at his neck, nose scrunching, "I found it boring."

"They used a stake in that one right?" Charlie asked, opening the folder, "I saw one of the movies."

A high pitched laughed burst from Sam, "Yeah," He rubbed his eyes, "Oh God Charley." Staring into Charley's vibrant eyes he beseeched, "Are we going to have to stake her? I love her. Has he changed my Lizzie-beth into a senseless slave?"

Gulping, Charley timidly proclaimed, "I think it may be a little worse than that." As Sam's lips churned, skin creasing and eyes wrinkling, Charley stressed, "I'm certain Mr Vincent can put everything right. He'll fix everything – tell us exactly what we need to know."

Licking his lips, Sam firmly ventured, "What kind of shows does this Mr Vincent do Charley?"

Running his hands fiercely through his short curled tangles, Charley hesitatingly announced, "He's an illusionist."

A gruff laugh escaped Sam's parched lips. It grew, thunderous. Charley slowly stood from his perch and teetered between the coffee table and the kitchen, turning his head this way and that nervously.

Uncertain as to the correct course of action, Charley asked, "What's so funny Sam?"

The laughter stopped. Sam glared at Charley, fists clenching, "You're going to ask a magician."

Stepping towards the kitchen, eyeing the pots and pans, Charley stated, "Yes."

Sam stood, but did not approach.

"Charley I highly doubt a man who cuts scantily clad bleach blonde highschool dropouts in half is likely to know how to take care of our vampire problem."

Avoiding his gaze, Charley said, "I disagree. I think Mr Vincent will be very insightful." Keenly stepping further into the kitchen as Sam tiptoed closer, Charley continued, "Besides, he's an expert in Vampire-ology."

"Vampire-ology… really, there is such a thing as that?" Sam probed sceptically.

Nodding, Charley changed the subject. He looked outside the living-room window to Sam's Parents' house, "You should stay here until dawn then go over and get ready."

"Right," Sam frowned, glancing round the room, peeking into the kitchen and then at the staircase, "Where is your mother? She can't possibly be that heavy a sleeper."

A short laugh broke through Charley's twitching lips, his teeth chattering slightly, "She went out with some work-friends." He began hastily pacing towards the light switches, turning the fixtures off, "Bonnie is putting her up. I don't doubt she'll be too wasted to get a taxi back."

Sam absentmindedly nodded, pre-occupied by the purple folder. He moved towards it, but Charley snatched it up, "I think we should get some rest." Charley insisted, "There are some spare quilts upstairs. You can sleep on the couch and I'll get you one of my mother's pillows."

Warily, Sam scrutinised Charley as he sauntered up the staircase with the folder in hand.

* * *

Slamming the door, Sam shocked the engine to life. Charley took to the front passenger seat.

"This shrine thing then," Sam trailed over for a fourth time, "Are you sure it has something to do with vampirism. Maybe he's just some psycho and has hypnotised Elizabeth."

Charley sighed, shaking his head, "No, no, no, I told you. I saw him dig his freakish fangs into Doris and besides, how else would you explain all the recent missing people." He raised a finger, factually adding, "Professionals say that a single person can get away with illegal action a lot easier than a group. A single law-breaker is harder to catch. Jerry is alone and he's killing anyone who gets too close to the truth. That's probably how he's gotten away with this for so long – hence how he's been able to survive." A disgusted snort escaped him, as he stuck his tongue out at the following verbalised thought, "Being a vampire and all, he's probably ancient."

"You can't clarify what is actually depicted in those photos of yours though." Sam certified, as he spun the wheel.

Sighing, Charley sourly admitted, "No, I can't. Mr Vincent can hopefully fill in the blanks though."

"If he can't… what then?" Sam asked. His hands tightened on the wheel, as the car ceased at a red light.

"I'm not sure." Charley quietly confessed, "I guess we just do what we can with what we have."

"Great," Sam sardonically said with a bright smile, "Wooden stakes, garlic bread and holy water it will be then. I still can't believe you broke into his house… insane. This is completely insane." His fingers tapped on the steering wheel. "I should never have brought her here." He gently droned.

Turning away from the bitter man, Charley silently stared out his window for the remainder of the ride. He avoided all conversation despite Sam's various attempts of goading more information from him about Jerry.

* * *

He bought a newspaper, allowing the vender to keep the change. Making his way back to the car, Charley ripped the insignia of the paper from the pages.

"I don't know how long I'll be." He said, watching Sam stick a ticket to the windscreen.

"I can always break away once you're inside." Sam replied.

He turned to the teenager, sturdily probing, "Are you sure you want to do this? We can switch places."

Charley aggressively shook his head, "No, I'll be fine and as soon as I get passed security there shouldn't be any chance of getting caught. Plus, I know what to ask."

"Right, just be sure to be professional." Sam insisted, as they walked to the elevators, "You're a journalist now. Remember to shake his hand, clarify you're alias, the paper you work for and that you've already got an appointment to speak with him."

"I know," Charley retorted indignantly, "I know what I'm doing. Drama_ is_ one of my classes."

Sam obliviously continued, "This man no doubt sees reporters every day. He's likely to be hounded out there in the city by paparazzi. He knows the scene. If you get even the smallest thing wrong he'll know something is up, he'll be suspicious and if he figures out why you're really there… he'll think you're crazy."

"Hell," Sam loudly burst, "I'm still on the fence myself."

"Gee," Charley huffily expressed, "Thanks so much for the support mate."

Slapping his hand against Charley's shoulder blades, Sam chirpily replied, "No problem."

* * *

A broad shouldered man with a rather rounded figure grabbed Charley's left arm. "Really son, you think I'm an idiot?"

"Err," Charley hesitated, eyes venturing up and down the bald man's tall physique.

"Excuse me," Sam hollered from down the corridor, flittering through the crowd, "Sir!"

Charley broke away from the man, muttering to the other doorman, "I'm with the Vegas Sun – see." He pointed at the badge on his unbuttoned black jacket.

The more lanky man looked towards his portly fellow, but he was occupied with the lost tourist. Looking back at Charley, he gestured to the door behind him, "You here for Vincent then kid?"

"Yeah, this is my first assignment. I'm really excited." Charley poorly performed, yet the doorman seemed convinced by the fake enthusiasm.

He opened the door behind him, allowing Charley to pass. His fellow doorman glanced their way, but Sam grabbed his arm and pointed at the destinations on the map of a reception desk leaflet and asked for the man's opinion on the various sights. The local almost immediately began listing and describing those he felt were most magnificent and 'unmissable'.

* * *

Ripping flecks of silver confetti from his hair, Peter Vincent strutted from centre stage. He jumped off the frame and handed parts of his costume – clipped props – to assistants. Shouting orders, his eyes skimmed over Charley. "Who are you?" He boldly queried, gruffly stripping leather belts from his body and tossing them to the floor for others to pick up.

Side-stepping some of the straps, Charley stuttered, "I, err, I'm from the Vegas Sun. I'm doing a column on vampires – separating myths from fact."

Peter incredulously glanced at him, eyes squinting. "Is this your first assignment? You're quite young."

"Yeah," Charley suavely agreed.

The pair came to a stop, somewhere backstage where a few of the crew mingled, tampering with equipment.

Peter sucked in a breath, air hissing between his teeth and phlegm. He shook a whip. A black clad employee hastily approached, taking it from him.

He grinned, a laugh emitting from his throat. "I'm going to pop your cherry." He gloated with glee, gripping Charley's cheeks and squeezing the way one would a child's chubby cheeks.

Pursing his lips and swallowing the belligerent response, Charley averted his gaze elsewhere to avoid Peter's amused facet.

"Ginger!" Peter hollered back towards the stage, "Bring him upstairs." He prodded Charley's chest, "You've got ten minutes."

As he stalked away, Charley glanced behind himself and caught sight of a scantily clad woman. "Come along then sweetheart." She asserted with a snarl, tugging on Charley's arm.

He followed.

* * *

His lip curled as murmured, "What is all this stuff?"

Catching his smile, Ginger barked, "Stuff."

Charley slowed his pace, reaching out to grasp an uncased artefact.

"Hey!" Ginger snapped, "Don't touch anything." She slapped his hand. He retracted it with a pained grunt, a pout following. Ginger ignored it, turning away from him and moving on.

She led Charley through a cubed labyrinth of archaic objects.

"Are these really, like, sacred and magical things from eons ago?" he nosily inquired.

Ginger laughed, "I don't know. Somehow he gets his hands on these things, collects them. Mr Vincent is a very… odd man." She glances back at him, seeming to remember that he is in fact a journalist and keeping that in mind she became more cautious, "Regardless, these things give me the creeps. The atmosphere in here and the next few rooms is unbelievably otherworldly."

"Interesting," Charley muttered, catching sight of a large chalice.

Fire spluttered up from a square base. Peter emerged from behind it, tugging at his dark leather coat. Ginger's steps hurried a little. "The one and only." She introduced, gesturing towards Peter with a forced polite visage.

"Midori me." Peter demanded.

Leering, Ginger retorted, "Midori yourself, douchebag." She stalked away, one hand clasping at her vibrant dressing gown closed and the other raking through her long chocolate locks.

Charley timidly stepped further into the room, eyes scanning the area.

Peter threw aside his coat, back exposed to the cool air. He scratched a bit, skin sore and sweaty. Averting his eyes, Charley fixated on a chair. He rushed towards it, but remembered his manners. He remained standing.

His eyes ventured to Peter who had clambered behind a bar. Instead of insisting that Charley take a seat, he shook a bottle. Pulling a glass towards him, he announced, "It looks like piss, but I'm hooked."

Charley grimaced slightly, saying, "I pretty sure piss isn't supposed to be green… or at least not that vibrant of a green." He averted his gaze once more as peter incredulously stared, eyebrows lifting and lips elongating outwards to form a slight '_o-h'_ shape.

"Do you want some?" Peter asked, but Charley stammered out an 'I'm good, thank you'. "No," Peter concluded, "Too much for you." A grin scuttled over his scruffy visage, "Do you want a Shirley Temple?" he corrected with a mocking tone.

"Sit down." He insisted, watching Charley awkwardly teeter his weight from foot to foot as he poured the Midori.

He rapidly vacated the bar and approached the chair opposite Charley. Peter tore his long locks away. Perching the wig upon one of his many glass cased artefacts, he deafeningly crooned, "I'm the expert for your vampire… thing, eh?"

He droned rather dourly, "They're all the rage lately."

Scratching his head, ruffling his hair into a great untidy mesh, Peter plunged himself into his chair, complaining with a gritty tone, "Leather – it doesn't breath, you know?"

Fidgeting uncomfortably and once more averting his eyes elsewhere, this time catching sight of ornate panelling that crept round the walls of the room, Charley patiently waited for Peter to stop his unnerving groans of agony. Peter tugged at the material as it grated his crotch, sliding his backside against the chair as the leather spontaneously wandered in spite of his adamant attempt of control and heftily sought relief.

"Shoot." He spat.

"Right, well err," Charley anxiously fiddled with the strap of his bag and the collar of his suit jacket, "Look, I know your show is… err." He gaped for a moment, as Peter slowly tore away his moustache, "I know your show is an illusion."

"Yeah, fair enough," Peter lowly accepted.

"Say, though, that I wanted to kill a vampire," Charley expressed, attempting to sound fanatical.

Peter released a husky laugh, eyes closing and Midori drink swaying. "Yeah, sorry," he said, "Go on."

"How would I go about doing that?" Charley sincerely asked.

His leg overlapping the other, foot lightly kicking, Peter clarified, "You want to know how to kill a vampire - seriously." He gradually tore his sideburns off his face, Charley grimacing as he did so.

"Yeah," Charley keenly certified. Swallowing, he finished more dully, "kill a vampire."

"Well, let's think." He tossed away the fake hair, "Err-b, well you've got fire." Snapping a piercing from his eyebrow, Peter threw it at Charley who severely flinched, "Beheading." Swirling his drink, Peter stared at the wall behind Charley searching for methodologies, "Err-b, you could make them a big… garlic-y omelette."

A snarky laugh erupted from Charley.

"Or go traditional," Peter continued, "Stake through the heart. BAM!" His fist struck his chest. A slap-sound resonated.

Nodding, heart fluttering hastily, Charley looked away from the madman. Thinking back to his previous research, he asked, "So, that stuff – it really works?"

The vicious visage upon Peter's face dissipated, "Maybe not the omelette."

* * *

Sam paced the entrance of the building.

A multitude of people had passed him, but none were Charley.

"Damn, where are you?" he continuously complained to himself, hands in his coat pockets.

"Sir, could you please seat yourself further in the lobby. You're negatively affecting pedestrian traffic in and out of this establishment." A member of staff professionally requested.

"What kind of establishment is this?" Sam smugly asked, watching as the elderly man's facet jolted.

"The top twenty-three floors are privately owned or rented estates. The following seven floors below are restaurants and the forty below those are a mixture of… recreational activities."

Laughing slightly, Sam trotted away from the entrance, "Good try. We all know what you mean by 'recreational'."

Grunting, the man resumed his duties at the reception desk.

Sitting, Sam's eyes pierced through the thickening crowds, "Come on Charley, where the hell are you?"

* * *

The glass of the bottle cracked, green drops seeping out and splaying across the bar. "Get out!" Peter hysterically shouted, "Ginger!"

"No – please! You have to hear me out Mr Vincent. He's a vampire. Just look at the pictures."

"You're insane!" Peter retorted, waving Charley away.

Ginger finally entered, brows furrowed and arms crossed.

"Get him out!" Peter howled.

"Wait, just wait!" Charley cried out. Ignoring him, Ginger clasped his arm and dragged him from the bar towards the door.

"Let it go," she said, "Just go."

Peering into Peter's eyes, Charley eventually heaved a sigh and backed away.

He left the pictures and the purple folder.

Before leaving the lavish room he turned back to look at Peter, pleading, "Just make sure you look at them – just once."

* * *

Clawing at his bright hair, Sam scraped his nails across his scalp.

"Maybe I should get in there and speak to him." He murmured.

Charley shook his head, "No, it wouldn't do us any good." Tearing the jacket from himself, he threw it into the boot of Sam's car, "He thinks I'm crazy."

"What are we going to do?" Sam asked, "How are we going to save Lizzie-beth – or ourselves. You said so yourself Charley. Jerry will kill us for getting too close to the truth."

Pacing the concrete, Charley muttered, "I'm not sure yet, but we'll think of something."

He looked up and through the bars of the elevated car park. He caught sight of the sunset. "We should get back." Charley said, opening the passenger door.

Agreeing, Sam clambered into the driver's seat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Forever Indeed**

Digging into his wallet, Sam pulled out various notes. Charley incorporated his own money into the total. They both ogled at their surroundings.

A gruff, stout man packed away their goods. Spiked chains exuded from his being. Rattling emitted from the steel strapped to his black combat jacket and the buckles of his high boots thundered, as he tapped his feet to the beat of the old stereo sat atop a shelf behind him. The machine to his left pinged, opening. He pushed the first bag towards the pair, reaching into the casher to install their payment and retrieve the change.

"You're not the usual types we get in here." He grumbled, voice easily overcoming the song on the radio.

Sam neglected to reply. Charley glanced at him, saying to the man, "We're having a party."

A blazing eyebrow rising, the red haired man responded, "What kind of party? Halloween isn't for a while yet, ha, ha."

Charley struggled.

"Birthday," Sam abruptly interjected, "My niece – his sister, is into this kind of stuff and wants to have her friends round."

"Oh, that's nice." The man handed Sam a bag, turning to pull another plastic carrier out from behind the counter. As he filled that also, he effortlessly continued, "Not many people would condone this style."

"Yeah… I love my sister." Charley lied, awkwardly fidgeting with some of the products on a nearby desk.

"How old will she be then?" the man pried.

"Eight." Sam firmly answered, trooping towards the entrance. The bell rang out, as he pulled the door open, carelessly calling back, "Come on Charley, we've still got to steal holy water from that church on Celeste Street."

Avoiding the gaze of the gawping man, Charley grabbed the carrier bag, "Yeah, right… what he said."

He shuffled out, hurrying after Sam who was already unlocking the car.

* * *

Pulling up in front of Charley's driveway, the pair noticed the house lights were on. "You can still stay. I'll just tell my mother you're fighting with your parents or something." Charley tried to sway.

Sam shook his head, fringe obscuring his sight. "I need to get these crosses and everything over to my place. My mom and dad will need the protection. They have no idea… I don't want to leave them vulnerable." His grip on the steering wheel tightening, Sam grunted, "Lord knows what he'd do to them if given the chance."

"It's already dark." Charlie stated, looking out the window towards Jerry's house. "Do you think he's gone hunting?"

"Just get inside. I'll be over in the morning and we'll sort a plan then." Sam firmly ordered.

Undoing his seatbelt, Charley grabbed the door handle. "Remember… she's not herself." Glancing at Sam, Charley opened the door, finishing, "She'd eat you. Don't give her that chance."

His eyes briefly closing, Sam murmured, "Yeah."

Charley entered his house, slightly moving the curtain of the living-room window aside to certify that Sam entered his own.

* * *

Stock still, Jerry sat statuette in his dark leather chair. The glow of the television threatened continuously to breach his eyelids. He sat silently, breathing sluggishly through his nose with his eyes lightly closed.

His lip curled a little. He silently twirled an apple in his hand that shined in the bath of the vibrant ruddiness of the muted television.

A fang began to peek out, as another snotty sniff infiltrated his hearing.

It distracted him.

"Love, stop it." He soothingly commanded. "We talked about this earlier."

Salty splatters tarnished the floorboards beneath her feet. She was huddled in a corner, facing the back of his chair. Elizabeth sniffled, rubbing viciously at her reddened nose. Choking on the scent, she scraped her hands down her arms. She attempted to rid herself of it, eyes widened and pupils dilated.

"Seriously Love," Jerry firmly demanded, annoyed.

Elizabeth could not stifle the high pitched whine that accompanied a new bout of tears that penetrated her dark lashes.

Jerry sighed.

* * *

Peeling his coat off, Sam sloppily raked it over the banister. He shuffled off his shoes, yelling, "I'm back!"

* * *

Elizabeth's bloody nails scratched at the walls on either side, as she attempted to clamber to her feet. Jerry glowered at her from his chair, head turned to stare.

"Be quiet Elizabeth or I won't be able to hear." He lowly purred, "I know that you're struggling with yourself right now, but could you get a grip long enough to let me enjoy this?"

A loud wail escaped her, lips ruby. Her eyes fiercely snapped shut, as the incident replayed.

He growled, throwing the apple at her.

She ignored the pain the hit generated in her lower right ribs.

* * *

Quickly scanning over the names on the mail sitting on the floor by the shut living-room door, Sam trailed towards the kitchen with a carrier. The light seeped under the closed entrance, bidding him.

He grasped the knob, turning it and pushing it open with the aid of his kneecap.

* * *

Jerry tilted his head to the side, a smile forming. He smugly said, "There it is."

He looked away from Elizabeth and back at the images splayed on the television, gruffly laughing.

Picking up a bottle of beer from the side table, Jerry questioned, "Can you hear that Love?" As the shattering of glass penetrated his sensitive ears, he derisively chuckled in spite of wincing from the gaudy sounds, "Aw, doesn't he sound broken." Jerry muttered with delight, "His voice is cracking… every boy has to grow up."

He sipped his beer.

* * *

Choking on phlegm and rising bile, Sam stepped away. The bones of his spine creaked, snapping straight as his back hit the white protruding doorframe.

Though his mouth opened wide, a cry tore from the chords of his voice box and the tone scraped until it cracked, no coherent words formed.

Dribbles soiled the walls, some flecks sliding down the legs of the dining table and chairs. Prints of finger tips and harried heels caked the puddled floor tiles. Heaving, Sam stuck his head through the entry. He stole a deep breath of air from the hallway and then stepped out. He dared a look back.

His mother's limbs were splayed round. Some of the digits of her hands and feet were dipped in a freshly baked Victoria Sponge cake that sat centred upon the dining table. Blood and jam were conjoined, tainting the spread of cream in the cake.

The edges of the streaked marks were browning. Retching again, Sam reached in and pulled the doorknob towards him. Effectively, he shut the kitchen door. He was not bold enough to search for further remains, though substances by the kettle held fragments of identifiable hair similar to that of his father.

Hollering, Sam reached for the nearest object. He flung a photo frame. He tossed a pot statue alongside a fellow figurine. Sam bellowed and gripped the wooden bars of the staircase railing.

* * *

Thumping footsteps broke through the deafening boom of fresh blood pumping wholeheartedly through her body. Elizabeth tried closing her eyes to focus upon the steps, but the thudding of her refreshed pulse was too distracting. The dominance of the footsteps was overturned. She assumed it to be Jerry, but when her reddened eyes opened she spotted his reclined form lounging in the leather seat in front of the television.

He was grinning broadly, listening.

Sam's feet drummed.

* * *

Marching from the house, Sam haphazardly sealed the front door and callously headed across the road with Jerry in mind.

"Err… are you all right sir?" A dainty voice inquired.

* * *

Jerry's grin gradually wasted away, as her voice invaded his ears.

A ferocious snarl rumbled from within his chest.

Elizabeth subdued another bout of sobs, hands clasped to her ears and eyes scrunched shut to block Jerry's mad mood out.

* * *

Sam recoiled from the lean blond, startled.

"Sir," She ventured, reaching out to lightly grasp his sagging shoulders.

He had not noticed. Blood stained his shoes and the shins of his trousers. "I… err." Sam rubbed his browned hands. The caked pigment blared at his moist blue eyes.

"Have you hurt yourself? My boyfriend lives just here," She said, pointing to Charley's house, "We can take care of you or call an ambulance." Tugging on his sleeve, she led him away from jerry's lawn and towards Charley's home. "I'm Amy by the way. Do you know Charley – or his mother?"

Mumbling inarticulately, Sam was able to confirm his familiarity with the pair.

* * *

Hearing a knock, she opened the door.

Charley ran through to the entranceway, shouting with panic, "I told you. Don't open the door for anyone!"

"Charley it's your girlfriend." His mother persisted, gesturing to Amy whose stunning visage expelled an affronted expression.

"Oh," He stuttered, "Oh, well, but still. Don't do it again – not for anyone else!"

"Sam what are you doing here? Bit late isn't it?" Jane probed with crinkled brows.

"What?" Charley exclaimed, shoving Amy aside to catch sight of the hunched figure behind her. Sam trudged over the threshold of the doorway, ignoring Charley and creeping over to the sofa. He collapsed onto the plush pillows, as Amy began to bicker.

"Not right now. Here," Charley insisted, handing her a few crosses of varying size and design, "Stick these up on the windows in the Kitchen."

Charley approached slowly. He took in the drying blood and Sam's quivering palms. "Sam," Charley carefully began, "What happened?"

"I found them," Sam droned, "I found them there… in the kitchen."

Biting his lip, Charley spoke aloud the reality, "He bit them."

Jane glanced from Sam's messy attire to Charley's tense form quizzically.

Sam maddeningly laughed, "Bitten – I wish." He jumped to his feet, fiercely clenching his fists and stepping menacingly towards Charley, "He tore them apart!"

Cringing, Charley backed away. He raised his arm in front of his mother to stop her from confronting Sam who loomed over them both with a striking glower.

Amy nosily peered at the trio from nearby the kitchen window, as she taped crosses to the glass.

"Is this some sort of prank or something?" Jane asked Charley.

He pushed her towards the kitchen, suggesting she make Sam a hot chocolate.

Jane joined Amy in the kitchen, but both refrained from doing as Charley asked. Amy abandoned the remaining crosses and watched alongside her boyfriend's mother as the two en conversed.

A knock rang out.

Both Charley and Sam flinched.

Amy stared at them.

Jane moved towards the front door.

"No!" Charley yelled. He scrambled over the couch and posed before his mother with his arms outstretched to ban her from further exploration.

Sam stood in front of the door with his back against it, as though to hold it in place against a malicious animal.

"Don't answer it." Charley firmly ordered with wide eyes. He trembled. His very voice shook.

Jane's gaze shifted from her son to Sam who nodded, insisting, "You should listen to your son. Trust me, he knows what he's talking about." She took in his bloodied attire again, absorbing the speckles of brown and red.

"Jane I need to talk to you about your son." Jerry's voice interrupted. He knocked more loudly, calling out, "Jane, Charley broke into my house. We need to talk about this Jane."

Gaping at her son, Jane quietly hissed to him, "You broke into his house!"

Charley shook his head hastily, "No, no… well yes, but it's not what you think!"

"I can't believe you." She whispered harshly, shushing Sam when he tried to defend her son's actions.

"Jane!" Jerry's voice boomed.

"Mom, seriously," Charley asserted, grabbing his mother's shoulders and drawing her attention away from the front door. He caught her focus, eyes locked, "Make him go away. I'll explain, but you can't answer that door. You can't let him in."

Biting her lip, Amy gulped. She grasped the counter she was leaning against to keep herself upright, watching the stressful discussion.

Jane moved Charley aside. He cried out heatedly. Sam pushed against the door more strongly, glaring at her.

She stood before him and called through the wood, "Get off my property Jerry."

Silence followed.

Then he spoke, "I saw Sam go in there with Charley's girlfriend." Jerry knocked on the wood and Sam winced. He shrank away from the door slightly, as Jerry continued with a lower tone, "I intercepted Elizabeth earlier… he killed them Jane. He tried to kill her. You're all in danger. Sam could lose it at any moment."

None of them spoke, though Amy retreated further into the kitchen and Charley stepped towards Sam. Jane held him back, but he shook her off and consoled his ally with a sympathetic pat on his arm.

Charley did not know what else he could do.

"Jane he's going to snap and when he does… Let me in. You need to call the authorities. I'll take care of him until they get here." There was a light bang as Jerry rested his head against the door with a sigh. He pitifully groaned, "You have no idea what he's done to Elizabeth. He's ruined her Jane – broken her! She's over at mine crying her heart out on the floor in the corner of my kitchen. She's coated in blood."

Amy held a hand to her mouth, smothering a whimper. A tear trailed down her right cheek and hung from her jaw.

Jane pursed her lips, staring at Charley and Sam.

She resolutely barked, "Go away Jerry!"

Charley sighed with relief, as his mother threatened to call the cops to remove Jerry from their property.

He rested his head against the front door beside Sam who shared the sentiment.

Jerry stepped away.


End file.
